A Spark in the Darkness
by Kadyn
Summary: Stephanie lands herself in really hot water with the Newark police and has to strike a deal to avoid Jail Time. Ranger's 'In the Wind' and Stephanie has to managing things in secret so her mother doesn't drink herself into liver failure, of course things never go as planned when you're the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, and your playing live bait trying to catch a serial killer. BABE
1. Chapter 1

**A Spark in the Darkness**

Category—Stephanie Plum Fanfic

 **Disclaimer:** If you recognize the name then clearly the character is not mine. :)

 **Rated:** M

 **Authors Notes:** So this is my latest Stephanie Plum story and it is in no way connected to any of my previous SP fictions. I don't think this has been done before and the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I don't like songfics (as I've stated before) I think it's tricky to incorporate lyrics into a song without it feeling choppy or taking the reader out of the story. There will be song lyrics and hints of songs in this fiction and I'm very interested to see how it flows and how it's received. I also tried to make all the characters believable, and not 'over the top'. Don't get me wrong I love a good 'Mrs. Plum and Morelli as the villainous scums of the world' fictions but I think they are simply flawed characters, and very human. I've tried to portray them here in a realistic fashion.

As always, Reviews are greatly appreciated and only improve my craft!

This story is without a Beta/Editor so any and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

They say when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade and I've got to tell you I've tried, and trust me; nobody wants that. I did that when I was eight years old. It seemed like a great idea at the time. I made a sign on poster board left over from one of Valerie's school projects and dragged my playschool table onto the sidewalk in front of my parent's two story duplex house in the Burg and set up shop.

A young budding entrepreneur; Fresh squeezed Lemonade for 10 cents.

It didn't go so well because it turns out, despite what that saying will have you believe; it takes a lot more than just a bag of lemons to make lemonade. You need a whole lot of sugar to make the truly bitter turn sweet.

My name is Stephanie Plum, and now twenty or more years later life is still handing me a lot of lemons. I'd like to say I've prefect the old saying, or at least come to terms with it and somehow cobbled together the ability to sweeten what life gives me to the point it's half way palatable and doesn't leave a bad taste in my mouth. I'd like to tell you there's a metaphor in here somewhere...but there's not.

Sometimes life just plain _sucks_.

Truth is when life hands me lemons now a days I'm much more likely to slice those suckers up and stick them down the longneck of a bottle of Corona. Which is sorta how I got into the lemon suckiness that is this morning. Corona, lemons—well, limes actually, Lula and a whole lot of blurry memories that may have involved dirty dancing and possibly some puking.

I'm not proud to say that I'm not really sure it's all a bit…fuzzy.

I let out a groan at the ice picks stabbing at my eyeballs even though my eyes were still closed. I felt like I had the brass section and possibly some drums to a really terrible band in my head; and someone obviously let a wet dog sleep in my mouth overnight. _ugh._

I pried my tongue off the roof of my mouth with only moderate success since it felt like it took up the entire space behind my teeth at the moment and cracked one eyelid at the room then pressed my palms to my face and waited for the world to stop it's lazy spin.

 _How shit-faced did I have to be last night that I still felt drunk at..._ I cracked one eye blearily at my bedside clock again waiting for the numeric to slide into focus. _Shit_ , 1:02 pm. _Yikes._

I rolled out of bed with less coordination then a slug that had just been salted feeling like I might turn inside out myself and crawled into my bathroom on wobbly hands and knees.

I left the light off since I was on the floor anyway, and standing up seemed like a lot of effort today...and honestly it wasn't like it was worth seeing since the bathroom was pretty much hideous. It was yellow and brown outdated tile and there may or may not be a ring of soap scum around the tub that pre-dates the dinosaurs. I propped my back against the bathroom counter, bent my knees and did some slow breathing with my eyes closed wondering if I was going to puke again since I had a few vague memories of puking the night before.

I'd have to check the sidewalk outside my apartment complex to be sure but I sorta remembered hurling into the bushes when we got home and stumbled out of Lula's Firebird and I wondered if I'd managed to clear my shoes.

After a few minutes I determined my stomach wasn't interested in offering me any relief and I started up the shower setting the temperature at luke warm and since I was naked—not sure how that happened since I'm at least certain I was alone when I came home last night; I climbed in and leaned against the cold tile wall in the dark just waiting to wake up. Thirty minutes later, according to the clock, I felt sorta human-by the loosest definition of mankind that is. And I'd exited the shower, dried myself, managed to get dressed, pony tailed my hair (go me!) and I was searching the living room for my purse and my phone.

All this seemed like such a monumental effort that I was tempted to just crawl back into bed, but unfortunately that wasn't going to happen. It was the sixteenth of the month, and rent on my tiny second floor apartment is traditionally due on the _tenth_. To say my check was late was a serious understatement. If I didn't get some skips in soon I was going to find myself evicted. I was starting to feel a little desperate, which lead to feeling depressed, naturally—which is how I ended up in a bar last night with Lula and Sally Sweet getting truly shit faced.

I guess that's the one good thing about being a sorta leggy decent looking brunet. Broke or not you can always get drunk in a night club or bar because somebody is always willing to buy you a drink. Too bad the same couldn't be said for my rent.

Well, I had little doubt if I asked that a certain Cuban who was kinda missing in action at the moment would do just that if I asked—but he wasn't around for one, and I wasn't about to ask Tank. Yikes. And two that was just plain embarrassing, I feel bad enough when he makes up jobs for me to do when I need money the last thing I needed was to have him simply start forking out money for my rent. The embarrassment of that venture might simply outright kill me.

 _Nope._ I wasn't asking Ranger, that's for damn sure. And I wasn't asking Morelli either, he'd probably just start in about how if I'd just give up my apartment and move in with him I wouldn't have to worry about paying rent—or keeping my job, yada yada yada. _Yeah. Obviously not talking to him about this_. I managed to find my keys and my phone which had only a bar of battery left and stuffed them both in my purse so I could try to do something productive with the rest of my day, and hopefully about my rent.

I opted for the elevator over the stairs and made it to the parking lot in one piece. So far so good, then my latest POS car started on the second try. Also a good sign. I made it over to the bonds office hitting minimal traffic and lights and had just pulled into the parking lot out front when my phone rang.

I must have had the ringer on blasting last night to have even a hope of hearing it at the club—and the result now was a piercing ringtone that even through my purse had me jumping so hard I plowed headlong into the curb with my bumper. I cursed up a blue streak scrambling frantically in my bag to shut it up. _Where the Hell wa…there!_ I winced while furiously jabbing at the screen trying to shut it up before my head exploded—unfortunately that meant I inadvertently answered it without seeing the caller ID.

 _Crap._ I had two choices now; answer or hang up and pretend it was a dropped call. Hanging up on one's mother, even by accident was paramount to murder in our family. I raised the phone to my ear in resignation praying it wasn't my credit card company or some other bill collector and offered a feeble, "Hello?"

"Stephanie Plum," _Oh, Great._

"This is your Mother—"

"—Hi Mom," we said in unison. _Ugh. My head was still pounding too much for this._

"What's wrong with you, are you sick?" My Mother asked.

"Um, No." _Just hungover as Hell._ "Just a headache Mom, what's up?"

"I'm making a pot roast for dinner," My mother started.

"Ugh, God no." My stomach twisted at just the thought of beef and gravy. I briefly considered rolling down the window, then I remembered it was broken.

"What do you mean _no_?" My Mother returned, clearly affronted.

"Um, I'm not actually feeling that great Mom. That just sounds too…" I paused searching for the right descriptive word while my phone beeped low battery in my ear. I didn't think the words _vomit_ would win me any daughter of the year awards. "…heavy."

"Well, I'll make something lighter then, God knows your Father's last cholesterol at the Doctors was through the roof."

"What?" People in the burg didn't believe in cholesterol, it was skeptically regarded as a myth. Like Bigfoot, and free city parking. Trans-fat was practically a religion.

"His Cholesterol Stephanie. You should get yours checked too, all those tasty cakes and Fried chicken. It's not healthy."

It was like a pod person had taken my Mother's place. " _What_?" I croaked.

"Dinner's at Six, and please don't bring Joe."

I nearly choked on my own spit and started coughing.

"Goodness," my Mother chimed in. "I'll make you some soup."

"Why am I not bringing Joe?" Not that I wanted to, but what was this; some kind of weird reverse psychology?!

"Are you back together again?" She asked conversationally.

" _Um_ , no?"

My mother sighed heavily in my ear. "Well, anyways I had something to discuss with you and I'd like to do it in private."

 _Cholesterol and Privacy. Definitely pod people._ My phone started chirping in my ear again. "Okay," I returned feeling kinda dazed by this whole conversation. "My phone is gonna die Mom."

"Six O'clock Stephanie, take it easy today." _Yeah, I wish. If only that were even possible._ We said our goodbyes and I hung up and watched as my phone furiously blinked the battery sign across the screen and then it went dead _. Great._ I climbed out of the car to see Connie the office manager staring at the front of my car.

"Is it that bad?"

"Nah, You can hardly tell what with all the other scratches on it."

 _Fabulous._ I followed her back inside the office and found a mass of bright yellow and poison green spandex ith electric blue leggings underneath that could only be Lula sawing logs on the couch.

"She's been like that since she got here this morning," Connie offered.

"This morning?"

"Well, you know." Connie waved a dismissive hand through the air over her desk letting me know the term was relative. "You girls have fun last night?" _I think so, I couldn't actually remember._

Connie snorted a laugh so I must have said some of that out loud at least. "Well, you both look a little worse for wear, here—I know you said yesterday you were short on rent. These two just came in this morning it's not really something you normally handle but it's all I got if your desperate."

 _I was._ I took the pro-offered files and chose to stand considering most of Lula was taking up the office couch, the rest of her was hanging off rather limply. Yikes, neither of these characters were in my usual hat bag of tricks—but I was in danger of eviction and even if someone in my wheel house jumped bail today it would have to be more like 5 or 10 jumpers for me to gather the money I needed to keep me off the streets. Chances of that happening—and of me successfully bringing that many skips in within 24 hours was minimal at best. Hell it was a pipe dream. But just one of these guys would cover rent, the minimum payment on my Victoria Secret and Macy's card and I might possibly have some left over for groceries. It was a risk I was willing to take, even after perusing their rap sheets.

I nodded to Connie and then took the twenty she offered me over the desk just slightly confused. "What's this for?"

"Lunch," Connie informed me then barked, "Lula! Wake up! Stephanie's here and she's gonna take you to lunch."

Lula jerked awake and started putting herself together so we wouldn't get arrested while I hiked my eyebrows at Connie. "Thanks…?"

Connie smiled, "I figured your fridge must be empty and besides it's not like I can get a thing done with her snoring; can't even hear the phone ring!" I rolled my eyes when Lula stood up shaking her massive boobs down into her shirt top and interjected, "Who's snoring? I know it wasn't me…. I was just resting my eyes on account of all the partying we did last night. Gotta get my beauty sleep."

Neither me or Connie wanted to delve into that topic so I waved Connie goodbye and me and Lula headed out the door to my car files in hand. We climbed in and the car started on the first try, so maybe whacking it on the curb had done some good after all. We motored two blocks over to McDonalds and hit the drive through before finding a parking spot to stuff our faces.

"So you get a call from that tall glass of water yet?" Lula started between a mouthful of fries.

"What? Who?"

"Don't you Who me, you're just lucky you saw him first! The blonde guy with the eyes," Lula interjected. "and the ass."

I was drawing a blank.

"I mean it wasn't Batman level hot, but then who is?"

We paused for a few bites to contemplate the awesomeness that was that man's heavenly rear before I spoke again. "I don't actually remember that much about last night…"

"Well, I aint surprised, you can't hold your liquor for shit." Lula informed me. "Don't you worry though I made sure I gave him your number, and address on account of you was too far gone to remember it yourself."

 _Oh boy._ I guess if some random guy with a nice ass showed up at my apartment I'd at least have some idea of what he was doing there.

"I mean it's not like you're seeing Supercop right now right?" Lula continued while I used a paper napkin to do little more than smear around the bright yellow mustard blob on my right thigh. Great. Now I needed to do laundry, and Lula was still waiting for an answer.

"No,"

"See, that there makes you one of those free-agents."

 _Uh huh._ We finished our grease choked lunch and washed down the last of the fries' salt with our extra-large cokes before I wiped my hands on my jeans, it wasn't like the could look any worse; and grabbed the top file from between the seats. "Who's up first?" Lula asked rattling the ice cubes around in the bottom of her cup.

"This guy," I held up the mug shot and Lula's lip curled in disdain. "Damn that man's ugly, he looks like a pit bull got hit by a lead pipe; not like Mr. McDreamy last night, nope that man was fiiiiiiine." I was alternating between being disappointed that I couldn't remember Mr. McDreamy from last night, and wondering if he could really be that fine or whether Lula or I—or both of us had been suffering from too much alcohol last night to see straight. I still hadn't decided which was more likely when we pulled up in front of the first skips apartment complex in Newark.

"So, how you wanna play this?" Lula asked me as we climbed out of my car. "You knock on the door and I could shoot him through the window, then when he opens the door for help we cuff him!"

"No, no shooting!"

"You never let me shoot anyone, you ever think if we shot more people we'd have more success in this here occupation? Ranger shoots people."

"Ranger does not shoot people!" I stopped to argue with her on the front walk. Lula propped her hands on her plus size electric blue hips.

"He does so!"

"Only the bad guys!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must be confused, here I thought we was after a bond jumper, but your right, he's just a nice man, probably all those robbery and assault charges weren't his fault. Probably he's been framed!"

 _Ugh._ I dropped my head into my hands and took a few deep breaths. "Okay, so he's a bad guy! But you can't just go around shooting people without provocation! That's illegal too!"

"Were bounty hunters. If we can't shoot people who can?"

Sometimes Lula's reasoning scared me. "No shooting people."

"It's not like it do that much damage, this here's a baby Glock see? It's got Baby in the name, can't do that much damage or they wouldn't call it that. Not like my Big Daddy I usually carry. Now _that's_ a gun. Skip's just lucky I had to leave that one home on account of it makes my purse too heavy,"

"Give me your gun!" We argued back and forth for a few minutes but in the end I tucked Lula's gun into the waist band of my Jeans at the small of my back, just like I'd seen Ranger do and pulled my shirt down over the handle. "No shooting people," I reiterated.

"Huhn. You act like I was going to shoot him in the head," Lula complained as we trumped up the stairs. "What's one little bullet in the leg? I bet he'd respect us then, he'd know we was serious."

We reached the skips door and I banged on it announcing myself. "Tyrone Johnson? Open Up!"

The door flung open and we both recoiled from the stench of tobacco and unwashed human wafting through the doorway. "Who the Hell are you?" Tyrone spat, leering at us both. His eyes stuck to Lula's chest. "I don't remember ordering no hookers. 'specially plus size ones."

"Excuse you?!" Lula shot back.

"My name is Stephanie Plum and I represent your bond enforcement agency, you missed your court date and we need you to reschedule."

Tyrone eyed me again. "Is that so?"

 _Uh oh._

I pulled my hand forward attempting to clap one side of my handcuffs over his wrist as his arm came up and shoved me so hard I almost toppled over the wrought iron railing. Then he sprinted past Lula shoving her into the wall and hot footed it down the stairs. "Damnit!" I started after him. Lula huffing behind me, "Shoulda let me shoot him!" She wheezed, "Fucker couldn't run if I shot him in the ass!"

Which _was_ a rather compelling argument as Lula gave up and I continued chasing my only hope of a rent payment down the block and up an alley. We cut over two streets, and up Jubilee before he turned on Broad and that's when I stumbled in a pothole right in the middle of the street and Lula's gun which had been safely tucked into the back of my pants, and digging into my butt the whole damn time went flying.

"Fuck!" _That hurt._

Tires chirped on the pavement and I heard a car door open and slam shut as I tried to pick myself up off the road brushing bloody gravel and dirt from my palms with a sharp hiss.

"You alright?" A deep male voice asked.

I looked up to see a Newark City Patrol car and an officer I didn't recognize. Great, just what I needed; another precinct getting in on the betting pool that was my life. "Chasing a skip,"

"Is that your dog?"

"Um, No. Bond Jumper." I clarified.

The officer was standing over the top of Lula's gun hands on his hips. "You're a bond enforcement agent." He was eyeing my t-shirt and the ripped knee of my jeans skeptically. Probably the mustard stain from lunch on my thigh wasn't helping.

"Yes, I work for Vincent Plum Bail Bonds," Though I was starting to question my occupation, and my sanity.

"And this is your gun?"

 _Crap. Where was Lula?_ I tried to figure out what to say. It wasn't my gun, I wasn't even sure it was legally Lula's. But did I say that?

"Well?"

"It's not mine."

"So it was tucked into your pants, because…?"

"I was holding it for someone?"

"Uh, huh." He bent over to pick up the gun and crooked a finger at me in a come hither gesture that had my stomach plummeting back onto the pavement. "You got a permit to carry?"

"Uh…"

"No?"

I shook my head.

"You better come have a seat," the officer pointed me toward the now open rear door of his car. _Shit._ It was a good thing he had the gun and Lula had made herself scarce.

Otherwise I'd probably shoot her.

* * *

 _ **To be Continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Thanks for the Reviews!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

Four hours later I was sitting in the interrogation room at the Newark Police office ready to bang my forehead into the steel tabletop.

"So let's go over this again Ms. Plum,"

 _Ugh. Let's not._

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," I rubbed at my burning eyes, fighting off an entirely different kind of headache. I lowered my hand to find the officer glaring at me. Why did this have to happen in Newark where I knew _none_ of the officers? If I'd tripped in front of Carl or Eddie they'd have laughed at me, exchange money and probably handed me Lula's gun informing me they 'didn't see anything'.

"Ms. Plum, we found you carrying an unlicensed firearm—with the serial numbers scratched off." _I was going to kill Lula._ "And upon searching your vehicle we found a second firearm—this one registered in your name… But you don't _have_ concealed or open carry license for the State of New Jersey, do you Ms. Plum?"

"You already know that I don't." Because we'd been over this conversation, Four Times.

"We also found trace amounts of cannabis in your vehicles interior."

"I picked up Dougie and Mooner last week in that vehicle—that's not my fault!"

"Yes, Skip Tracing, you said that. But we can't seem to find a current State record of a bounty hunting license for you in the State of New Jersey."

"That's not my fault! Vinnie's supposed to pay for it! Fucking weasel! He probably forgot because he was too busy watching porn!" Or too cheap to pay the fee! I was going to shoot him next, right after Lula!

"Whatever your agreement is with your…employer…Ms. Plum. You are the one responsible for having the appropriate paperwork."

"I had the appropriate paperwork!"

"But not the license. So what we have is a case of one private citizen, chasing another private citizen with an unlicensed, loaded weapon. And because you smelled like vodka when the officer found you lying in the road—"

"I tripped!"

"—he administered a drug and alcohol test—"

"Oh for Chris—"

"—and while you're not over the legal limit Ms. Plum, there's definitely trace amounts of alcohol in your system."

"Yes, because I went out; Last Night. Last Night! Not today!"

He stared at me, lips pursed. "How much alcohol do you consume on a daily basis Ms. Plum?"

 _Not enough. Clearly._

"Flippant remarks aren't going to help your situation."

I groaned and leaned forward to bang my head against the tabletop. Thunk, thunk, thunk.

"Ms. Plum?"

 _Sigh._ "What?" I asked without lifting my forehead off the table top. Maybe I should just tell them I'm not saying anything else until I talk to a lawyer. That's what they always say on cop shows right?

The door opened and shut and a chair scrapped back on the linoleum with a whine of protest. Somehow I doubted the newcomer was my lawyer.

"Ms. Plum?" _Maybe if I pretended I could hear them they'd go away._

A file hit the tabletop across from my head with a slap.

 _Or not._

"Ms. Plum."

"What."

"You're looking at some pretty serious offenses, three gun felonies, and a misdemeanor. Then we have intoxication in public and disturbing the peace….and operating without a professional license, we also can't find a record of the vehicle registration, tag fees or insurance on your vehicle."

"You can't be serious! Everyone in New Jersey has a gun, my Grandma has a gun!" I'd seen it on multiple occasions! The damn thing was bigger than mine, or Rangers!

"Yes Ms. Plum, but is it in her purse, and are the serial numbers scratched off of it?"

 _Knowing Grandma, I wouldn't bet money on it._ "So what does that mean?"

"They're pretty serious crimes separately, operating without a professional license alone carries a maximum 15,000 dollar fine—"

I choked on my spit.

"—and up to six months in jail."

"WHAT?!"

Undeterred by my outburst he continued on. "The gun felonies however are far more serious."

"More serious than 15,000 bucks?" I was lucky to make that in a year!

"2-3 years."

"Probation?" I squeaked.

"Prison."

 _Oh. My. God._ "It's not even my gun!" My vision started to blur with tears and I felt light headed. "I can't go to prison! My mother will kill me! What will the neighbors think?! And what about gangs? And Lesbians!? I don't want to be a lesbian!"

"Ms. Plum, calm down."

"Calm down? I have to be someone's prison bitch! And make root beer in the toilet! How the Hell am I supposed to calm down?!"

"Well, there might be away we could make these charges go away."

I choked on a sob so hard I nearly gaged. "What do I have to do? I'll do anything!"

The newcomer opened the file still sitting in front of him and pulled out four pieces of paper. He set them in front of me face up and I had to wipe the tears from my eyes to get them into focus. Not papers, Photos.

"I'm part of a task force that's canvasing from Newark to New York."

I blinked at the faces smiling up at me.

"Ms. Plum, are you aware that in the last eight months five women have been murdered?"

I stared at the women laid out in front of me with a fresh wave of horror clawed at my insides.

"Vaguely," I heard myself whisper.

"The first three were in New York, then this one here," he tapped his finger over one of the women's foreheads. "She was killed here in Newark, but she worked weekends in New York…they all worked in New York. The last victim," he flipped over another photo and I almost threw up, "…died Tuesday. He's escalating and we're no closer to stopping him."

I swallowed hard. My voice was steadier then my hands at least. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

But I already knew.

Five photos.

Five dead women. Every single one of them had curly brown hair, and blue eyes.

 _Oh, Shit._

* * *

 _To be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Notes:** **Aruvqun** pointed out in a review that in _One for the Money_ Ranger gets Steph her registration and Permit and Morelli (whom she's chasing at the time) says "Ranger Manoso? Christ, he probably made it in his cellar!" Stephanie even thinks that she's 10% certain its legit paperwork. :)

So Yes, in the first book Steph is supposed to have the proper paperwork...but then so much has happened and laws very from state to state on renewals for things like concealed or open carry...and in fact I think in the later books Joe asks Steph if she has a permit to carry concealed when the gun is IN her purse and when she says 'no' he talks about needing Malox. ; )

I hope this doesn't ruin the story for you, it is fanfiction so I may fudge it a bit cant I? Maybe her license expired...maybe Ranger really did make it in his cellar (ha!) maybe she got a different gun and failed to register it. :p

Also in re-reading about half the first book to find out (I got sidetracked clearly) I noted that Ranger is listed as 5'10 though many writers have described him as 6ft. :P Also Steph guess Ranger is late twenties...and says she's 30. (though she is guessing to his age and might be wrong) I felt at peace with the universe though that even in the first book Joe is still an Asshole, and Grandma is batcrap crazy.

Cheers!

-Kadyn

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

It was 10pm when I pulled up in front of my parent's house and killed the engine. But I didn't get out; I just sat there staring blindly out the windshield into the darkness, listening to the engine tick as it cooled down and seeing those faces.

 _How exactly am I supposed to do this? I had no idea, but I didn't have a choice._

I pulled myself out of the car just as my Mother came to the front door of the house calling across the yard. "Stephanie?"

"It's me, Mom."

"Where have you been? I was worried sick! You didn't call. Your phone went straight to voicemail!"

"I know, I'm sorry. It died."

"And you couldn't borrow someone else's to let your mother know you weren't kidnapped or dead in a ditch somewhere?! Doesn't everyone have a cellphone these days?"

They probably did, but I hadn't exactly been in a position to ask favors.

"Mom, we need to talk." I announced as I followed her through the front door.

"Oh God, you're pregnant."

"No!"

"Thank God."

 _What?_

"Stephanie, I think you should sit down." She indicated the empty kitchen table with her hand.

"Why did something happen to Grandma? Where's Dad, is he okay? Is it Valerie?! The kids?"

"Stephanie just sit down." I followed my mother into the kitchen mindlessly feeling a bit like I was walking to my own funeral. The feeling only intensified when my Mother cut a huge slice of Pineapple upside down cake and plopped it in front of me grabbing two forks. Then pulled a bottle of vanilla vodka from the back of the freezer, and two cans of coke from the fridge. I watched her pour us both a generous mix of both. It was like an out of body experience.

 _Oh God, she knows_. "Mom, I can explain—"

"Stephanie, it's about Joe—"

 _Wait._ "What?"

"Joseph, Stephanie. It's about Joe. Well, I don't know how to tell you this but Mary Delinek saw him out with Stacy Peroski, the first grade teacher? You know—Ellen's oldest daughter."

"I thought she was married?" I was completely confused.

"Divorced." My mother announced sitting down heavily in the chair next to me and using her own fork to take a bite of the cake sitting in front of me. "Partial custody of her two boys."

"Oh."

"Anyways, If it was just the one time I wouldn't have mentioned it but…"

"Mom, we broke up." We always broke up, I mean we got back together…sometimes we even agreed it was okay to see other people...

"Yes Dear, I know. It's just he's been seeing her for a few weeks…"

"Weeks?" I set my fork down.

"Yes, about two months now. And well, Joe took her to Atlantic City for the weekend."

 _We only broke up last Wednesday_. I felt sick. "Oh," _Joe never took me away for the weekend, Joe never even took me out to dinner._

"I'm sorry Stephanie. I liked Joseph, but to be fair I don't think you two are right for each other."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"I mean you two were always breaking up, and getting back together, and that's not really a healthy relationship is it? What if you had kids? Kids need a stable home environment, they're sensitive to those kinds of things, you can't have kids when one of you is storming out of the house all the time, it's not decent."

"Right, sure." I was out of coke suddenly. My mother stood up and poured us both another glass before sitting back down.

"Oh I'm sorry Stephanie, But maybe it's for the best, you and Joe have been just sort of stuck for a while now, and I was going to mention it the last time you broke up…but I just, well I just didn't know what to say…"

A let out a bark of laughter.

"Stephanie, honestly."

"Sorry,"

We drank in silence for a few minutes, when the cake was almost gone she spoke again.

"Maybe it's time you dated someone else, someone more your lifestyle…that Ranger fellow,"

"—Is not available." I stated firmly.

"Someone else then—"

"Mom, Not right now." My life was a mess, I didn't need one more complication—I couldn't _handle_ one more complication. "Um," I felt like my head was reeling from the shitty day I'd had, this whole conversation was just the icing on a very strange cake. And probably the vodka wasn't helping. "Listen Mom, I've been doing some thinking about my job."

"They're hiring at Gia's Beauty Shop—they need a receptionist full tim—"

"No Mom." I had to cut her off before she worked up any steam. Now to feed her my cover story before I chickened out. "I applied for a temp Agency online a few weeks ago."

"You never said anything…"

"I wasn't sure anything would come of it, and I didn't want you going crazy sending me job applications in the mail for the button factory."

My mother scowled and we both silently took another bite of cake washing it down with vodka drenched soda. "Anyways, I got a call today right after I got off the phone with you and they wanted to do an interview for a position…and I got the job."

"Stephanie! That's wonder—"

"Wait! Let me finish!" Otherwise I might forget what I'd planned to say on the way over here. "It's only temporary, the lady I'm filling in for is on Maternity leave, and I don't know when she's coming back."

"Well your sister got three months maternity for Angie—she just decided not to go back."

I doubted very much the fictional character I was filling in for was going to up and quit this job—I certainly didn't want to keep it. "I'm thinking three months tops." _Or however long it took me to flush out a serial killer while playing bait._ With my luck with nut jobs it might only be a week. _God I hope it didn't take a year._ I grimaced and covered it with another swig of coke. Then I grimaced again at the harsh burn seizing my throat.

"Well, here's hoping!" my mother, the ever hopeful toasted.

"That's not all Mom..."

"Good God, it's not in California is it?"

"No. It's in New York City."

My mother pursed her lips into a thin line and I rushed to add "It comes with an apartment, and I can get rid of my shitty car because I can take the subway daily and the Train runs daily almost hourly from New York to Trenton—Dad could pick me up at the station…" I was rambling, and my mother had a sorta glazed look in her eye. "Mom?"

She blinked. "I think it sounds wonderful! And you can still come home on Sunday's for dinner, that's better than when your sister was on the west coast at least."

"Maybe every other Sunday Mom. I might be working weekends, and it's a two hour trip one way."

"Well, we can discuss that later, and I bet there's all kinds of eligible business men in New York, you could try that…what is it called? Speed Dating."

I felt my eyes roll. "Mom, can I focus on getting my life together before I worry about throwing a man into it?"

"Oh, well…I just meant—"

"I'm not getting any younger? Yeah. I know, but Mom you don't really think my life is a complete waste if I never get remarried or have kids do you? I mean, I can barely handle myself."

"Oh Stephanie, no. I just believe that one day you'll meet the right man and that will change."

 _Guess Joe wasn't the right man._

My mother pursed her lips again. "Yes, well. To be honest. I never loved the idea of being related to Mrs. Morelli or that God awful man Mooch? Imagine calling your child that, he has a perfectly good name, Michael! What kind of a name is Mooch? Sounds like a dog."

"Or Grandma Bella?" We both shuddered at the thought and shoveled in cake to keep from crossing ourselves in reflex.

"Your grandmother can't even walk past that women on the street without a scene; can you imagine Christmas? Or Easter Sunday?"

I snorted and clapped a hand over my mouth to keep half-eaten cake from falling out. "The whole family would have the eye before we served desserts!"

My mother started laughing too. "One crazy old lady is all this family can handle!"

It felt so good to laugh, but as I made my way upstairs to my old childhood bedroom, too tired and tipsy to risk the short drive home, guilt seeped in. I'd had perhaps one of the first decent conversations with my mother in over two years—and all of it was a lie.

 _I'm pretty sure I'm going to Hell._

* * *

 _to be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews, follows and faves! You guys rock!**

 **Notes:** HA! You're right JE is very inconsistent with her own details, Even Morelli's eyebrow scar migrates from right to left at will...LOL Oh well! All the characters here in if you recognize the name still belong to her! Any characters you don't recognize are my own creation. I make no profit...yada yada here we go!

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

I wasn't entirely positive I wasn't already IN Hell when I jerked away the next morning. My head was hammering so hard I could hear it.

Whamp! Whamp! Whamp!

"Damnit You Crazy Old Coot! I'm In Here!"

Maybe it was actually the bathroom door.

"I have to pee! Let me in or I'm not responsible for the state of this hallway floor! Open up right now! My bladder is 88 years old, I can't take this pressure!"

"You pee on the floor and I'll throw you into the backyard like a dog!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! "I'll show you an—"

I groaned and pulled both pillows over my head. I had enough of a pounding headache as it was thanks to a second day straight hungover. If I kept this up I'd need rehab.

I must have passed out again because when I woke up the bathroom war-zone was quiet and the sun was beaming intensely through the half opened curtains. Just another beautiful day in Trenton, New Jersey— hot and humid with enough seasonal pollen to choke a heifer.

I made my way to the bathroom, showered brushed my teeth to remove the morning sweater with my emergency toothbrush under the sink and pulled my hair back into a messy bun. Then feeling somewhat human again I trudged back down the short hall to my room to put on some clean clothes I kept in my old dresser. By the time I made it downstairs my father was long gone—in his cab or at the lodge I wasn't sure which, but Mom was in the kitchen and she must have heard me knocking around upstairs because she had eggs and toast already plated for me when I plopped into an empty kitchen chair with a groan.

"Thanks Mom."

"So you never said last night when you're starting your new job."

 _How was she not hungover?_

"New Job?" Grandma crowed coming from the living room. "You give up bounty hunting to work for that sexy Latin-Stud-Muffin again?"

I nearly choked on my toast. "No, and he has a name," even if he was a sexy Stud-Muffin. Yum.

My mother rolled her eyes and took a big swig of her coffee. After last night I was starting to wonder if it was laced with something other than cream.

I was pretty sure my orange juice at least was virgin, which was a good thing. I didn't think I could handle anymore liquor for a while.

"Stephanie took a job in New York."

"It's just temporary," I added.

Grandma whistled. "That's quite a commute, take you longer to get there then it does to get into the bathroom here in the morning."

No kidding, it had either been fall back asleep this morning—or contemplate peeing in the backyard.

"It comes with an apartment Mother," my mother boasted sliding me two aspirin. It wasn't fries and a coke, but I'd take it.

"Hot Damn!" Grandma hooted. "Sounds fancy! So, what are you doing with your apartment here?"

If I didn't know any better I'd say there was a predatory gleam in my grandmother's eye. "Um, I thought I'd just keep paying the rent, I don't know how long this other job will last." And I didn't want to be homeless.

"What if I used it?" Grandma shot in, "This one bathroom living is for the birds! Your father takes more time in the bathroom then a teenage girl. I'll even pay half the rent."

"That sounds like an excellent Idea!" My Dad spoke up from the kitchen doorway. "I'll pay the other half plus utilities, anything to get the crazy old bat outta here!"

"Honestly!" My mother exclaimed throwing her hands in the air.

My Dad dropped a kiss on my head, "Afternoon Pumpkin,"

"Hi Daddy,"

"What's this about a new job?"

"It's temporary." I stated.

"In New York City!" Grandma beamed.

"And it starts…?" My mother prompted.

"Monday."

"Stephanie! That's tomorrow!"

"I know," I moaned. "It was kind of an emergency thing for them, so short notice." Where was I coming up with this stuff? I'd gotten so good at lying to my family it was making me uncomfortable. I needed to go before I turned myself into president of the company or something. Plus I had so much shit to do before tonight it wasn't funny. "I have to go home and pack, and I'm gonna drop my car off with Dougie so he can sell it I guess."

"What time do you need to be at the train station?" My father offered.

"Six?" I had no idea when the trains were even running. The last time I went to New York I was with Mary Lou and my biggest concern was finding cute shoes.

"It's Sunday, I'll look up the train schedule, make sure that's right." My mother offered as I pushed away my unfinished eggs not feeling hungry anymore.

"Well, I'm gonna go. I have so much to do." I beat a hasty retreat grabbing the shoulder bag I use as a purse off the living room couch and throwing another thank you for breakfast over my shoulder as my Mother shouted from the kitchen the train schedule for the afternoon followed by a hasty "call your father when you're ready to go!"

I pulled the front door shut and hustled to my car shutting myself inside feeling—I don't know what I was feeling. Dread, yes. Nervous and stressed out, yes. Relief that they bought it? Also yes.

I drove home on complete autopilot and parked near the dumpster then took the elevator to the second floor. I opened the front door and stepped on something that crinkled under my tennis shoe. I looked down to find a folded piece of paper. Praying it wasn't an eviction notice I stooped to pick it up and pulled it open to find a neatly written note.

 _Sorry I missed you Steph._

 _I really enjoyed your company the other night. I was on your side of town and thought maybe we could do lunch, I'll come back another time._

It was signed _Alex_ , and that was it.

I stared at it for a beat then shook my head and dropped it onto the kitchen counter. Guess I'd heard from Lula's Mr. McDreamy. I dug around in my bag so I could plug in my long dead cellphone in to charge. Then I headed to my bedroom and fished out a suitcase from the back of my shoe littered closet floor and then just stood there staring _. Shit._ I had no idea what I was supposed to bring! I needed help but who was I going to ask that could keep a secret like this? I racked my brain and drew up a big fat blank.

I wanted to call Ranger. Ranger would know what to do. Hell, Ranger could probably snap his fingers and make this whole giant mess disappear. Ranger's the _Wizard_ , and not just in bed.

But Ranger wasn't around.

I considered calling Tank for about a millisecond then chickened out, I didn't feel like I knew Tank well enough to ask for help with Skips…I couldn't even begin to picture asking him about this. Lester? Hell no. Bobby, no….I went through the entire Rangeman roster in my head and decided I couldn't really ask anyone for help with something like wardrobe even if some of them *cough* Lester *cough* were probably experts in this area at least. If I asked they'd want to know why, and if I told them I was pretty sure they'd lock me up and throw away the key.

And then Grumpy Officer Ricks or Agent Davis would toss me in Jail.

No good. I gave up and just started throwing jeans, a few t-shirts, black dress pants and two blouses a few club shirts, one super short skirt and two distraction dresses with a half dozen shoes into my case. I had to lean on it with my knee to get it zipped but I was pretty sure it would hold. By the time I'd filled my second smaller rolling case with what I considered essential beauty and bathroom supplies my phone was fully charged and it was almost 3 O'clock. I picked up my phone and dialed Rangeman's front desk first. It rang twice while I paced the hallway biting my lip.

"Rangeman Trenton,"

"Hi, um…It's Stephanie Plum."

"Is this an Emergency Ms. Plum?"

"No, no…I just ne…"

"Let me transfer you to Tank's office."

I protested to empty air, sighed and then heard the line pick up again to a gruff. "Talk,"

"Tank, its Steph."

"What's wrong?"

Jesus, give a girl a complex! "Nothing, I'm just getting rid of my car and I didn't know if you had trackers on it you wanted to remove before I did that."

Silence, then "you're getting a new vehicle and you're calling to tell me."

"No, I'm just getting rid of it and I don't want your guys wasting time and resources tracking it when Dougie re-sells it to someone else."

Silence.

I sighed. "Look I'm taking a temp job for a few weeks and I'm not going to need it."

"A temp job." Tank repeated. "At the button factory?"

"No! It's an office job, management….well not management, management…" I rambled "Mid-level…purchasing."

"Purchasing," Tank repeated dubiously.

"Yes, I did have a career before Vinnie you know! I have a business degree!" I said suddenly defensive of my imaginary position.

"I know." Tank said.

"Okay, well I just thought you should know—you know since Ranger's over throwing a third world government or whatever…" It sounded like Tank snorted but I couldn't be sure.

"I'll send someone to remove the trackers and get rid of the car."

"I'm just giving it back to Dougie!" I needed the money to pay rent.

"I'll take care of it," Tank informed me, then he hung up. _Well. That went better than expected, I was half expecting an interrogation._ Next I called Connie.

"Vincent Plum bail bonds—you screw the pooch, we cut you loose,"

I cringed. "Please tell me Vinnie didn't come up with that slogan."

Connie snorted out a laugh, "No I saw your name on caller ID, he has been barking in his office all morning, though."

"Ughn. I need a new family tree. Let me guess, Joyce Barnhardt?"

"Yup, she wants your job again…or she's developed schizophrenia and thinks she's a one woman animal farm."

I gaged. "Well listen she can have it. I got a job offer the other day for a temporary positon and I'm gonna take it, at least right now. I haven't even been able to make rent on time the last three months, my fridge is empty…I can't keep doing this, I need to take a step back and re-evaluate my life." _Where the Hell had that come from?_

"Are you okay Steph? I heard about Morelli,"

Of course she had, probably everyone but me knew long before last night. "Yeah, it has nothing to do with Joe, we broke up and this is about me and my life. I'm 33! I think I need to consider a job where I can make my rent on time."

"Yeah, it's been slow." Connie agreed. "What's the new job?"

"Purchasing, office management stuff, should only last a few weeks maybe three months and then I'll be back."

"Vinnie's gonna shit." Connie mused. "You wanna break it to him, or should I?"

"Knock yourself out, um listen I kinda lost those two files yesterday…"

"Don't even worry about it, I reprinted them for Rangemen after you guys left."

I refused to think that was because Connie knew there was no way me and Lula were going to succeed the other day…to be fair, we hadn't. "Thanks Connie,"

I hung up feeling oddly like a huge weight was off my shoulders—which I found disconcerting but I decided to chalk it up to relief that I was one more phone call away from being finished. I glanced at the clock on the wall almost 3:30 I cleaned the kitchen and moved Rex's empty Hamster aquarium to the top of the fridge where it would be out of the grandma's way. I missed Rex, he'd been a great little roommate, but I was glad I hadn't gotten another hamster as I packed his stuff away. It would only complicate leaving even more. Then I scrubbed down the bathroom, and vacuumed the whole apartment, and changed the sheets on the bed while I decided what to say in my final phone call, when I was done I felt icky and I had to jump in the shower again.

When I got out I found that someone from Rangeman had let themselves into my apartment and left me the three CD's that had been in my car's center console and an envelope with 850 bucks, exactly what I'd paid Dougie for it two months ago. There was a short note in neat print, unsigned, saying they sold it. I wasn't sure I believed that but I folded the cash in half and headed downstairs to the basement where Dillion the building super lived. I knocked and waited a few moments before the door opened up.

"Hey Steph what's up? You need a new front door again? Or did you reconsider on those window bars for the fire escape?"

"No, I still think that's a fire hazard, and…rent." I said trying to hand him the folded cash.

"Oh, your Dad already called me and paid it, and half of next month too."

Guilt and gratitude welled up in my chest. "Oh, okay so he told you already?"

"Yeah, New York, Go You! I'd say it will be too quiet with you gone but with your grandmother moving in; should be a party!"

I couldn't help but laugh with him. "Knowing Grandma, every day!"

I headed back upstairs declining Dillion's generous offer of beer and left over pizza. I still had things to do, and limited time. When I got back upstairs I printed out the name and address of my new apartment and added the phone number for a Tamsin Grey to my cellphone contacts; she was supposed to be my contact at Dom's. I saved it to my favorites so I could find it easily when I got to New York. Then I sat on my couch with a piece of paper from my dwindling printer supply, writing and scratching out multiple things I wanted to say, and getting nowhere.

When I couldn't put it off any longer I called my Dad for a ride to the train's station and after we hung up I dialed his number, maybe for the last time and listened to it ring and fighting the prick of tears behind my eyes. After the fifth ring the machine picked up and I cleared my throat a few times listening to his voice instructing me to leave a message, determined _not_ to sound like I was about to cry.

"Hey Joe, It's me Steph. Listen I'm sorry to do this over the phone but I took a job out of state and I know we're not together right now but uh…Well, I felt like I should let you know I was leaving, and also to tell you that I think this time, this breakup, or off-stage or whatever you wanna call it; should be permanent. We don't belong together Joe. I think we both know we can't agree on a future, we can't even agree on bread or household chores. We're just holding onto the only thing we have in common, a history—and a lot of it's not even _good_ history." I had to pause and clear my throat. "It's time to move on, I heard your seeing someone and I wanted to give you my blessing, or something I guess, just…" I took a deep breath. "Just be happy Joe, I want you to be happy, and I want to be happy and I think it's clear we don't make each other happy so this is goodbye. That's it. Stay safe out there. Bye Joe."

By the time my Dad arrived at my door to take my suitcases downstairs to his cab I'd repaired most of the damage from my crying jag and I could at least play off my funky mood as new job and city anxieties. The drive was made in silence, though I wasn't sure I was up to talking so that was probably best. My Dad parked the cab and we headed inside to get my ticket and found a seat on two empty hard plastic chairs to wait the train's arrival. We sat for a few moments before he spoke again startling me out of my tangled thoughts.

"Steph,"

"Yeah Dad?"

"This…this is gonna be good for you,"

It was like a kick to the gut. Tears welled up in my eyes and I quickly swiped at them with the edge of my t shirt sleeve to keep my mascara intact.

"Hell, don't cry, you'll make me start." My Dad groused.

"Sorry, It's just…" I opened my mouth to tell him the truth but nothing came out…I just sat there gaping like a fish until my Dad squeezed my hand and announced, "I know Pumpkin. Train's coming."

We stood up and headed out onto the platform. My Dad handing me the rolling handle of my suitcase as it came to a stop and people started to depart at the other end.

"Okay, well make sure you call or your Mother will go crazy, and don't get in any cabs unless the dome light is on—and make sure the meter is zeroed out when you get in so they don't try to over charge you."

"Ok," I nodded my eyes brimming with tears again.

"Don't ride the subway after midnight, and lock your door."

"I will," I sniffed. "Dad, Thank you for paying my rent…"

I nearly burst into tears when he pulled me into a bear hug. "Anytime Pumpkin." I sniffed a few more times before we pulled away, the intercom overhead announcing the train was now boarding for New York's Penn Station. "Okay, off you go." My Dad's voice was a little too rough.

"Ok," I grabbed my suitcases firmly before I could chicken out or freak out—or both, and walked through the double doors. Most of the car was empty so I found a seat easily opting to keep my suit cases with me in the seat for the hour and a half ride. My Dad was gone by the time I sat down and looked back to the platform. _Probably for the best._

Now I could close my eyes and focus on keeping it together for however long this lasted.

* * *

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Not mine, Darn**

 **Notes: Thanks for the reviews and Faves!**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

When the train jolted to a stop at Penn Station I was so relaxed I almost slid out of my seat.

The ride had been just long enough that I'd almost fallen asleep between the soft rocking of the train car, and the muted repetitive swish, swish, clank of the track. Luckily the train was almost empty so nobody saw me jerk awake—and thanks to the evening hour and lack of travelers the station was a ghost town so it was easy for me to gather my things and walk through the enormous high-ceiling lobby and exit out onto the street without steering around other travelers or bumping into people left and right.

The line of cabs waiting to accept the thin string of passengers arriving meant I didn't even have to try hailing a moving taxi and I chose the closest out of the waiting line to avoid walking the 43 blocks to my new apartment building.

I gave the driver my new address and he pulled away from the curb as I fished my cellphone from my purse. I hit the button to dial Tamsin and waited for her to answer. She must have been waiting for my call because she answered in a brisk tone without even saying Hello, just informed me she was waiting for me at my apartment and that she'd see me in a few minutes. Then she hung up.

 _Maybe Ranger was_ _ **Really**_ _from New York._

The cab ride took less than twenty minutes, but I was really glad I had chosen not to walk. My feet hurt just thinking about it. I was going to have to learn the subway system—and fast. I paid the cab fare, gathered my things and stood on the sidewalk staring up at my new building. And up, and up!

It's easy to forget being from New Jersey the sheer scale of most of the buildings in New York City. If you've never been let me help you imagine it—picture yourself standing next to a giraffe…now, imagine you're an ant.

The sky was a thin slice of misty grey-blue high overhead, not a single star in sight thanks to light pollution. The night was framed in by aged red brick stretching towards the sky and several hundred double pane windows scattered across their faces some dotted with air conditioning units. To either side of me the buildings stretched out as far as the eye could see like the bottom of a canyon instead of a city street, the blacktop road and a constant stream of taxi's running along its basin an urban river of noise.

I hoped there was an elevator.

There was, _Thank God_ , because my apartment was on the 18th floor. The inside of the building was dated-just like the outside. I didn't hold much hope, or _any_ hope really, that I was going to find a swanky NY City apartment behind the dingy door labeled 1815. I just hoped it was free of cockroaches and shag carpet.

I let go of my suitcase handle and raised my hand to knock. The door made a hollow metallic rap and I felt somewhat safer knowing it was made of steel or aluminum at least instead of wood, especially considering my history of unwanted visitors.

The door swung open revealing a gorgeous blonde with curves in all the right places clad in dark perfectly fitted hip hugging jeans topped with a grey pin stripe vest that left over an inch of perfectly toned silky white skin between them and a plunging neckline exposed through a hint of cream lace. She looked like she should be gracing the cover of a magazine that touted makeup tips for bedroom eyes, and 'tricks to wow him in bed'. The severe expression, and sharp blue gaze however made me feel like I was being scrutinized by a trial lawyer instead of a Night Club manager.

I started to apologize, certain I'd picked the wrong door by some mistake when she quirked an eyebrow and hiked a thumb over her shoulder giving me a cheeky half smile that reminded me of Lester's impish grin.

"You gonna come in Jersey, or you gonna stand there gaping like a lost country bumpkin?"

Gorgeous, blonde, toned, and Dimples. _The world was so unfair._

"Tamsin Grey?"

"That's me, and you're Stephanie Plum from Trenton, New Jersey." Her head cocked to one side and the assessing calculation was back, "I gotta say I wasn't hoping for much when Marco called me with this cockamamie scheme. But I'll be damned. We might actually flush this asshole out."

I stepped past her into the room and stood frozen in dismay…because it was _not_ an apartment by any description I knew of…not by a long shot.

"Yeah I know, the Bureau; real big spenders on anything that isn't some upper level Assholes imported Mahogany desk. It's not so bad once you move in."

Move in? It was ugly. It was dirty. And it was _Empty_. Not just sparse, it was bare—it couldn't have been more than 300 square feet. My living room in NJ was larger than the whole apartment! The exterior edge of the building's brick made up one long wall with a window in it…and any sense of charm or character ended there. The rest of the room consisted of three off-white dingy walls, one of which contained a built out rectangle, obviously the bathroom. That was at least separate from the rest of the apartment by two walls and a door…but the only form of a kitchen was a counter top to the right of the door, four feet long with a single narrow sink, two overhead cabinets, and an under the sink refrigerator that was smaller than my dorm room in college. A bare window with an AC unit—what looked like the only form of climate control to be had…faced the street with a lovely view of the brick building across it.

My college Dorm room had been bigger then this! "Um…"

"Hey," Tamsin glided in front of me blocking my view of the room and placed her hands on my shoulders rocking me back on my heels punctuating her words with each shake. "Don't Panic Jersey! This place is gonna look great, all you need is about two grand, bleach and a coat of paint…maybe a rug…"

"Coffee pot?"

"Great Idea!" She squeezed me.

 _There wasn't even a coffee pot._ "Oh Boy," I didn't think my refunded car money was going to stretch too far.

She spun and draped an arm over my shoulders giving me a squeeze, "Luckily for you I took care of the bleach," she waved her hand at a bucket, mop and what looked like a dingy grey rag next to the kitchen cabinet. I wondered if it had been white before she started…even with the bleach.

"And I just so happen to have what the Bureau considers an acceptable housing stipend in my pocket."

"Is it two thousand dollars?" Cause I was thinking it needed to be more like a wrecking ball and contractor.

"It IS two thousand, and you know what that means Jersey?"

 _I could at least buy a coffee pot._

"Jersey, we're gonna get you a _bitching_ Coffee pot— _and_ a rug, cause let me tell you I mopped this floor four times and it's still coming up brown."

I felt my lip curl staring at the questionable laminate flooring wondering if what I thought was a grain pattern might just be years of previous-tenant dirt.

"Yeah, just don't walk around barefoot without a tetanus shot. Let's Go!"

She spun on her heel looking more like a ballerina then a Lawyer or a night club manager now and moved towards the door glancing back at me. "Let's go Jersey! This city might never sleep but we've got shit to do."

 _Oh boy_.

.

* * *

 _._

 _He sat down in his usual spot without trouble, most of the chairs scattered around the dance floor, and the bar were empty…but then it was early yet._

 _The Blonde with the dimples was on bar tonight again, she was good with the drinks, quick and didn't stiff him on the liquor. She smiles setting his usual down in front of him and he gives her a sheepish grin averting his eyes to the wrinkled napkin his drink is sitting on…She's pretty, but she's not what he's here for…she's too direct for his tastes…and blonde._ _He doesn't like them blonde, his Angel has curls, wild chestnut curls that frame her face like a halo._

 _He nurses his drink for an hour listening to the bass beats around him, occasionally glancing up at the mirror behind the bar that allows him to see the stage…no…no…too brown…too red…too short…anxiety claws at his chest, makes it hard for him to breathe he coughs trying to loosen the fist squeezing his chest. Maybe he needs another bar, another city…It's been too long since he's seen her, he has to find her…he doesn't know how much longer he can go witho…_

 _"_ _Hey, You alright?"_

 _He glances up expecting to wave off the assertive blonde but the words die in his throat…he's found her, he's finally found her. His Angel._ _She's here, she's perfect. She smiles at him and he feels it in his gut, it pulls at him and his body stirs for the first time in weeks, the connection, it's there he knows she feels it too._

 _"_ _I am now, thanks," he averts his eyes quickly from her perfect blue. His heart is racing and he breathes slowly to calm it._ _The rush of finding her melts into the need to touch her skin…wrap his fingers in her curls…but he can wait._

 _Those other girls were mistakes, they'd fooled him. Lied and tricked him…they weren't his Angel…they weren't good enough…pure enough._ _They had to be punished for making him burn._ _They left him no choice._ _But now he's found her. He only has to watch and make sure that she's worthy of his attention._

 _He can breathe again._

* * *

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

* * *

 _Oh My God_.

I've never hurt so bad in my life. I hadn't even rolled out of bed yet and my body felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My arms ached like someone had tried to pull them out of their sockets, and my abs throbbed so bad I would have thought I was about to experience serious gastro-intestinal destress or the worst period cramps of my life…if I hadn't felt like this every morning for the last seven weeks.

I groaned, and gingerly rolled towards the edge of the bed sitting up slower than my 80-something year old grandmother. I glanced at the clock.

10:28am.

My alarm would go off in seven minutes. This was the fourth day in a row I'd woken before it. Guess I was on a schedule now.

I gritted my teeth standing up, turned off the alarm so it wouldn't blare the entire time I was in the shower and cause my lovely next door neighbor to bang on the wall again. The last time he'd vibrated the wall so hard he knocked my knock off ten dollar bin wall art down. I turned on the Keurig machine so the water would heat and shuffled my way slowly into the bathroom turning on the hot water in the shower and then just standing under the spray un-moving waiting for my body to wake up, and willing the fiery throbbing ache in my back, shoulders and abs to go away—it never really happened, you'd think I'd be used to it by now.

After about fifteen minutes—which was about as long as the hot water lasted around here I was at least able to move without grinding my teeth. I didn't bother with shampoo, just a quick soap and the water had turned tepid as I rinsed. I hastily shut it off—there wasn't much time between luke warm and ice cold and I didn't feel like getting blasted with shiver inducing water. Shivering and sore muscles hurts!

I wrapped myself in a towel and bent forward to wrap one around my hair. Then I went to get dressed pulling a pair of shorts, yoga pants a sports bra, a t-shirt and light jacket from the plastic drawers serving as dresser that sit under my window. I went back into the bathroom to hang up my towel and pulled the second one off my head letting now only slightly wet curls hang limp around my face. I didn't even bother picking them out since they weren't really tangled and it wasn't like it mattered this morning.

Despite a lifetime of being raised in Jersey I'd quickly learned that no one wins beauty competitions at the Gym. And I'd rather sleep an extra thirty minutes anyway. I grabbed an elastic hair tie off the counter and finger combed the damp strands back into a messy bun to keep it out of my way and off the back of my neck. I added a spare elastic tie to my wrist and headed to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.

I needed to run to the bakery two blocks over, and the corner market so I was a little low on breakfast options this morning—and running short on time. I settled for a bowl of brown sugar and apple oatmeal while the Keurig gurgled Dunkin Doughnuts flavored coffee into my travel mug. I leaned against the counter top not bothering to sit down quickly shoveling in my fare not even bothering to chew. I've never loved oatmeal…but it was quick, and sweet and amazingly easy. Rip open packet, add water, microwave, stir. I'm not my Mother or Ella, but even I could manage that.

I rinsed the bowl and my spoon setting them both beside the narrow sink to dry, and screwed the lid onto my travel mug making sure it was tight. I didn't want it leaking into my bag again. I grabbed the smaller shoulder bag I now use as a purse, and the cloth grocery bag I'd need later today stuffing it inside next to my wallet and threw in my new cellphone. Then I headed out the door making sure to lock it on the way out.

I made the eleven block walk to the Bittersweet Studio sipping my coffee and enjoying the cooling temperatures, fall was a few weeks off still, but it was nice to not feel smothered by the stifling heat and humidity of Jersey. I arrived just before eleven thirty and was already stretching when Tamsin walked in for another day of what she liked to call Pole Booty-Camp. I called it _Hell_ , but it was keeping me out of jail.

Tamsin was convinced if movie stars could pick up things that took years to master—at least sufficiently enough to portray them in movies like dancing, or martial art forms…then I could learn enough in a few short weeks to go from waitress to pole-dancer.

I'd freaked out when I first learned that I was going to be dancing and not just serving drinks.

It wasn't _just_ that I was worried my mother would somehow find out what I was really doing in New York, because I was positive if she ever did she would disown me permanently not just withhold all future desserts. It wasn't even that I was worried about wearing what amounted to a swimsuit in a night club—most of Ranger's distraction jobs had alleviated those concerns a long time ago. It was mostly that after that first night with Tamsin I had a better understanding of just how difficult pole dancing truly was.

This wasn't some skinny waifs wiggling in a G-string next to a pole. These women were athletic, ripped even! They had abs that rivaled the Merry Men! They performed moves I'd only seen Chinese acrobats at the circus perform! They were gymnasts without the balance beam and marginally less clothes. I had very serious doubts that despite training six hours a day for weeks, I'd _ever_ be able to pull this off.

But Tamsin and Agent Davis had pointed out when I'd called him in a panic five weeks ago—all of the previous woman he'd targeted were _pole dancers_ , not strippers—and not wait staff. If I was going to lure this guy out I had to perfectly mime what the other's had been doing so we could draw his attention. The trouble was other than being dancers and working in New York clubs nothing else, other than appearance, connected the victims.

The victims. I shuddered and tried to put their faces out of my mind as we started to work.

I'd managed to get down about 20 different kinds of spins—and there were a lot of dance, 'sexy' kind of body rolls, turns and essentially _wiggles_ that weren't specific to pole-dancing but would be part of filling the roll of exotic entertainer, and filled the gaps to create a routine in the club. Think Jessica Alba in that seriously weird black and white comic book movie a few years ago? Yeah, wiggles like that.

Except minus the lasso because I didn't need to strangle myself with a rope.

Turns out that the sexy moves were actually easy for me to pick up. I'd always loved clubbing and dancing, and compared to the pole work they were a breeze! In fact a lot of the off-the-pole moves were similar or even identical to moves I'd done ages ago in Baton Twirling routines. Crazy right? After just two weeks of stretching Tam had been pleasantly surprised that I'd been able to pull off a few pirouettes, fouettes and I'd even managed an Illusion without falling on my face…you know that crazy dancer move where you stand on one leg and it looks like your whole body rotates towards the floor and back up around giving you whiplash without dislocating your hip? That one.

I was surprisingly still flexible for having done nothing athletic beyond the occasional staircase and sprinting after skips for years. And thanks to Tam's torture I could now do a split that was even hyperextended without wanting to scream in pain. The strength to pull myself up the pole and hold on with my arms was slower going.

The ability to extend my body out from the pole and keep my whole torso and legs straight…well I was pretty sure that was a mystical feat equal to the second coming of Christ.

We only spent two hours a day working on pole-specific moves. Spins, turns, mounts and holds—and even then it was a lot of me watching Tamsin and a few other girls who rotated through working on their own techniques—and then me trying to copy what they did for ten minutes at a time. And it was exhausting…like muscles shaking, grit your teeth, ready to scream; hard to do.

I did an hour of weight circuits and barre strength training exercises designed to strengthen my arms, shoulders, and increase my core strength and then there was a good three hours of Dance training moves, sometimes private one on one with Tamsin or Chrissy…and sometimes there would be dance classes that came through the studio and I would just join in which I quickly realized despite having one similar things in High School and my first two years of college was more like Cardio then I remembered.

The dance moves were coming really easily now, we'd started learning simple routines using a lot of floor and spinning moves to work between the floor space on the stage that separated the two main poles at Dom's. The pole work was a lot of simple hand grabs, and a mix of the different spins I'd learned. Sometimes I simply circled the pole with a little twirl, swinging my hips, or swaying to the beat, and then there were spins where my legs actually did most of the work. These were so much easier than the arm dependent ones—Tamsin was right, my lower body was naturally so much stronger than my upper body, and I needed to use it to my advantage.

I still couldn't flip upside-down from the ground and wrap my legs around the pole like I'd seen Tamsin, Chrissy, Yvonne, York, and Felicia do…but I was starting different holds now where I would first climb up the pole normally then instead of spinning down right-side-up I'd grip the pole with the back of my knee, or thighs, and hang upside-down.

These were terrifying at first—I could just picture killing myself by falling right onto my head on the wood floor of the studio, but Tams and Chrissy were really good teachers and while I did lose my grip and fall when we first started the spins and grips by the time we 'Inverted' as Tam called it, I could tell when my hold was solid—and when it started to give I could control it enough to just sort of slide down the pole instead of letting go and falling on my face.

It also explained why the music was so loud at Dom's—pole work was not quiet. And not just because I was huffing and puffing half the time and grunting like a pig. The pole vs. skin resulted in a kinds of squeaks, squeals, and very un-lady like noises that every once in a while still made even the stoic Chrissy bust out laughing.

Tamsin always reminded me of Ranger when this would happen, standing there with one eyebrow quirked and a half smirk on her face like, 'Really ladies?'

I was still getting used to the bruises and pole burns though, that had also been a complete surprise. I'd been completely black and blue the first few weeks on top of the sore muscles—I really had looked like a car-crash victim. I honestly didn't know if I'd ever get used to having to walk around my apartment or fall asleep at night with icepacks jammed under my armpits…or sitting on the couch to ice the back of my knees…or my inner thighs. I had pole burns on my inner thighs that chaffed like hell in my jeans—so I'd given up wearing them after the first few days, and angry red welts on my waist and embarrassingly on my butt cheeks as well…and no, I'm not going to explain how that one happened.

I had gained so much respect for the women who worked at Dom's nightly and made it look so easy. Compared to their effortless, sexy looking dances flowing seamlessly from one move to the next I felt like a sweaty shaking ridiculous hot mess. I doubted I'd attract so much as a dollar bill, let alone a serial killer that preyed on exotic pole dancers…

You know unless he picked his victims because they were terrible, and he was putting them out of their misery.

But it was getting easier—the problem was as soon as I felt I'd mastered or at least got a handle on one movement Tams introduced three new ones that had be cursing and gritting my teeth all over again.

By the time six pm rolled around I was sore in a dull ache kinda way, but I also felt very loose and…relaxed. It was a new sensation I was starting to equate with working out—I also felt relieved that I'd survived another day, and I hadn't quit. I tried to hold onto the feeling of excitement that I'd pulled off an entire six minute, two-song routine that Tamsin had been teaching me…in fact I did it twice without any mistakes! I'd been so pumped the first time Id jumped up and down pumping my fists and shrieking while Tam smirked at me and then announced, "Perfect, now do it again."

It felt remarkably like one of Ranger's coveted "Proud of you Babe" moments.

.

* * *

.

I got home after a quick stop off at the corner market for some staples—canned soup and tuna, peanut butter and a new jar of olives, bread, another 500 capsule bottle of extra strength Tylenol, a half-gallon of milk and sweetened powdered coffee creamer. I preferred the real stuff but touting down the street and upstairs—even in the elevator was a lot of work, especially with already sore muscles.

I jumped in the shower stripping out of my sweaty gym clothes and tossing them into the hamper after putting away the groceries in my tiny kitchenette. This time I actually worked shampoo through my curls, and then gave it some conditioner. I buffed, scrubbed and evaluated how soon I'd need to get waxed again-ugh. Then I did some stretches under the relaxing heat feeling my muscles give and loosen further after they'd been worked all day. When I got out I dried and slathered myself with lotion that had a slight shimmer to it—not big enough to be glittery, but it made the skin of my legs, arms, chest and the skin that would show between the low-rise waistband of my shorts and the crop halter top glow under the lights at Dom's. It also gave me time to massage sore spots and note places that needed an icepack.

I pulled on my robe and took Tylenol washing it down with a glass of water. Dinner was an Italian style veggie Progresso soup, and a fresh bread roll with canned tuna and light mayo…Almost twigs and bark by my usual standards. _Ranger would die of shock_.

 _Ranger_. My chest felt tight, and my heart ached just thinking his name. I wondered where he was for the millionth time, was he safe? I'd been home only once in the last six weeks, relying mostly on phone calls to appease my Mother's need to stay in touch. But while I'd not specifically gone by Rangeman I had left my Parent's house to find Tank sitting in front of my parent's house in a signature Black Rangeman SUV when I'd emerged from dinner.

My heart had climbed into my throat at the sight of his sober expression and I'd practically run down my parent's short sidewalk to the street before he'd even had the door open to climb out. I was so certain he was coming to tell me something had happened to Ranger judging by his expression…but he'd insisted Ranger was fine when I'd panicked and bombarded him with questions. Ranger was fine, made his check in's consistently while on this assignment—though he still didn't know when the Boss might come home. I'd been shocked, as much by the amount of words Tank had used in one day, as the fact that he was telling me anything to do with Ranger at all.

Complete Tank sentences, I was pretty much speechless!

Tank had come to check on _Me._ Which I guess was odd…and expected at the same time. I smiled and told him I was doing great—which I sorta was so it was an easy lie. I hadn't rolled in garbage, been shot at, punched, or threatened in four weeks since I'd gone to New York.

I mean I was tired and sore, sure—but I was essentially working two jobs—but I was getting paid for both! The amount the FBI paid me to train and work with them wasn't much—but they were also covering the apartment and utilities, and giving me a food allowance…and the tips and hourly wage I made at Dom's both waitressing and working behind the bar a few nights was more consistent money then I'd ever made bounty hunting! I had more money in my new bank account then I'd had in years! With almost no living expenses to worry about I was putting away a serious chunk of change…even in the first few weeks! Plus all the exercise also meant my clothes were fitting great. I'd even gone down a whole size in just three weeks! And I was starting to see a visible difference in the tone of my arms, legs and even my stomach…If I kept this up I might have abs! Ranger would think I'd been replaced with a pod person!

Tank looked like he'd wanted to press further but my Dad had come out of the house to drive me to the train station so I could get back since I had to 'Work early Tomorrow'. He'd watched me wave at him and climb into the cab with my father—but he hadn't followed us to the train station for which I was grateful.

I hadn't been back since.

I had also been getting voice messages consistently from Grandma, everything from telling me about the latest burg gossip, turns out Joe was spending weekends with his new girlfriend the Teacher—Stacy, and both her boys…I wanted to be happy for him, I knew we weren't good together; we didn't have a future…but somehow it still hurt a little bit. Though I think it was mostly because I felt alone when Grandma told me about it, I missed Ranger, not that we had that kind of relationship…

Luckily it was easy to distract Grandma by asking about the latest Viewing at Stiva's or the local gossip from the Clip and Curl…

It seemed I'd gotten two more missed visits from _Alex the Mystery Guy_ from my night out with Lula. He'd left notes and had flowers delivered while she was home…I'd told Grandma she should put a note on the door saying I moved—or tell him in person if she ran into him. Grandma was very excited at the prospect of meeting Mr. McDreamy, and thought she'd offer to go clubbing with him to ease his disappointment at learning I'd moved to New York and was unavailable.

 _I tried really hard not to picture grandma's soup pot chicken skin and bony frame displayed in anything resembling clubbing wear... Yikes._

I decided to leave that alone, but I had convinced Dillion to install a second door chain for grandma to use when she was home after the second note—just in case, with my history of psycho apartment visitors it wasn't a bad idea to take precautions…something I could admit with Grandma staying there but hadn't wanted to accept when it was me. _Huh_.

Dillion had not only gotten my Grandmother a second security chain, he'd re-installed the floor bolt I'd been missing since four doors ago…He even took my joke of a 'note to potential stalkers' seriously and had a paper printed up and laminated then hung it on my front door informing visitors that 'The Bombshell Bounty Hunter has Moved' .

I had laughed when grandma told me about it the next week, and laughed even harder when she complained none of my hot friends with nice packages would drop by in the middle of the night now to see her…at least this way Ranger wouldn't come back and drop by unannounced giving Grandma a heart attack in the middle of the night.

My phone was ringing as I dressed for work. I glanced at it—my parent's house. I blew out a breath and answered it talking fast. "Hi Mom."

"Stephanie, this is…oh."

"What's up?"

"I was just calling because it's been a while,"

"I talked to you Thursday Mom." I reminded her grabbing my shoes off the floor and pulling them on. "What's going on, is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. Your Grandmother is loving your apartment. You might have to fight her and your father for it if you come back."

" _When_ Mom, _When_ …Not _if_."

"Yes, Well…Do you think you could come home for dinner Friday?"

"Uh, Probably not this Friday Mom…I've got a ton of stuff to catch up on, at work…taking over this position it's a lot…they're keeping me hopping!"

"What about the weekend?"

"I wish I could, I've got a ton of stuff to catch up on, and I'm using my weekends to read up and memorize the clients and business expense reports…" I pulled out of my ass, I could just picture my mother's eyes glazing over the way they used to when I talked about my job at E.E. Martin.

"Well, just try to work it into your busy schedule," My mother sighed. "We are your only family Stephanie."

Despite fervent wishing that I'd been adopted as a child I knew this to be true. I sighed. "I know Mom, I'm sorry I gotta run. I'll try to come next week."

"See that you do."

"Okay," I hung up before she could add anything else.

 _Sometimes I could see the distinct advantage to Ranger's lack of phone manners._

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

 **Thanks everyone for the reviews and encouragement!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

* * *

 _He watches her as she makes her way across the stage, and he's not alone. Every eye in the building follows her curves, the sway of her slender hips, every gaze riveted to the fragile curve of her pale throat…He shifts in his seat and digs his nails into the soft flesh of his thighs through his trousers. The pain heightens his senses, sets his blood humming._

 _They may be allowed to watch, but he's unbothered by their presence. They're nothing but voyeurs…bystanders. He knows the truth, this dance is just for him; she sways and raises her hands to the silver pole gleaming under the halo of lights, her skin glows beckoning his touch._

 ** _Soon._**

 _She twirls around showing a flash of soft curves, the graceful dip and then she's flying in a delicate ariel display that thrills him, all that power, and grace, long shapely legs perfect for wrapping around his back…_

 _His cock strains against his zipper and he slides one hand into his pocket subtly stroking his thumb over his own flesh momentarily disgusted with himself-It's wrong the way she makes him want her, she's still pure…he knows. He's watch her for weeks now. There's no man to taint her light, she's waiting for him._

 _He won't make her wait much longer._

 _._

* * *

 _._

The phone was ringing somewhere in my bag.

I stopped to dig it out waving a quick hello to one of the other girls who was arriving at the same time as me and paused holding the door open. " _No, go ahead._ " I mouthed and she nodded shutting the door. I found the phone in the bottom of my bag and cringed looking at the screen. _Might as well get this over with._ "Hi Mom, I can't talk right now I'm about to go into a business meeting."

"A business meeting at 530pm on a Friday?" My mother probed skeptically.

"Well, it's more like a dinner party with some of the company big-wigs." I lied on the fly. "Rubbing elbows with clients and all that." Seemed safer than admitting I was running late for my weekly Krav Maga Class. My mother would certainly question my need for self-defense classes now, regardless of my history with crazy whack-jobs.

"That sounds wonderful Stephanie, seems like you're really moving up with this company."

 _Yup, just climbing right up the pole._

"I don't know," I hedged. "We'll see." I pushed to change the subject before she could dig further. "Why are you calling?"

"Do I need a reason to call my own daughter?" Great, now she was on the defensive.

I tried again. "No, but if it's not really important could we chat later?"

She sighed. "Well, I know you said you would see about coming home for a family dinner…"

"I'm trying Mom—"

"Four weeks ago." She pointed out, obviously unhappy.

If I was closer to the brick wall I'd be tempted to bang my head against it. _Somethings never change_. I could see why Valerie had enjoyed living in California for years; _too far away to be expected at dinner._

"And I just want you to know that we had someone show up to dinner tonight looking for you,"

My breath caught with a rush. _Ranger!_

"His name is _Alex_ , he said you guys knew each other and he's been trying to get a hold of you…" My Mother's tone sounded mildly accusing.

My heart fell. _Damn. Of course Ranger wouldn't look for me at my Mothers._ I sighed. "What did he look like?" _At least someone who could give me a more accurate description than Lula had seen him, Grandma had been talking about my mysterious admires notes and flowers for weeks!_

"What do you mean what did he look Like?" My mother huffed in exasperation, "How many Alex's do you know?"

"Er…"

"Stephanie?" Then my mother gasped. "Oh my God! He's another Stalker isn't he?!"

"What, No!" I shot back feeling instantly defensive. _At least I didn't think so. Not everyone in the state of New Jersey was stalking me…it just_ _ **felt**_ _like that sometimes._ _And besides didn't a stalker have to actually know WHERE I was in order for him to stalk me? Was that a minor technicality or a necessary detail?_ _Ranger would know._

 _Ranger would scowl at this whole conversation._

"Then who _is He_ Stephanie?" My mother's voice pulled me from my musings.

"I met him when I went out with Lula, but it was months ago; and then I took this job and I lost my Cellphone on the subway; and had to get this new one so my number changed...so I guess he's been trying to get a hold of me." I explained.

"Well, he seemed like a perfectly nice young man." She informed me. "He brought a bottle of wine and chocolates."

"He brought wine and chocolates." I repeated dubiously after a pause. "To dinner." _Was she expecting me to show up and secretly invited him…?_

"Yes." My mother stated, like it was the most natural thing in the world..

"But…he wasn't invited."

"Stephanie!"

"I wasn't even there!" I pointed out.

 _Wait, who ate my chocolates?_

My Mother sniffed. "And I apologized for that. It's embarrassing Stephanie! This nice young man has put in a lot of effort to get to know you and I can't even tell him when you're coming home for dinner; or where you live! I told him you took a temporary Job in New York, and he still seemed very interested!"

 _Uh oh._

"I gave him your new number." My mother continued.

"Oh Geeze, _Mom_ …" I was full on whining now.

"What's the harm Stephanie? You come back next week, you go on _one_ date. He's put in a lot of effort to track you down!"

"So do Serial Killers!"

"I think I'd know a serial killer Stephanie." She huffed.

"Dave." I shot back.

"Honestly, _One_ time." _Scary how my mother could rationalize setting me up with a killer._ "Every other man I've introduced you to has been just fine,"

 _With anyone else I'd debate that comment. But arguing with my mother was as likely to get results as trying to arm wrestle Ranger._ _I'd just end up with a seriously bruised ego, discouraged, and annoyed._ "I'm _busy_ Mom, we already discussed this remember? No men."

"Please Stephanie. He's a nice young man who really wants to take you to dinner, is that such a crime?"

I blew out a breath, _By itself?_ No. _Unless he spiked my drink, duct taped me and threw me into the trunk afterward…Maybe I could get one of the Merry Men to chaperone!_ I grinned picturing Tank's face if I asked him to be my wingman.

"You wait 'til he calls, set a date. It's what, two hours of your life? And if he's really that God-awful company order dessert first, call a cab and sneak out the back door."

I snorted and started to outright laugh. _Was my mother was encouraging me to dine-and-dash?_

"It's not like he's from the Burg!" she defended, "He's from Philly—no one will ever know."

That explained it! "I'll think about it. Gotta go." I hung up and dropped my phone in my purse after hitting silent.

 _With any luck, Alex would call and it would go to voicemail so I could decide whether or not to call him back._

 _._

* * *

 _._

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** They don't belong to me, they belong to JE unless you don't recognize the name then they belong to me...or well, to the crazy Muse I guess...

 **Notes:** Huge thanks to all the readers, reviewers, followers and people who sent PM's I know lots of you want _Plum End_ and _Gone Girl_ finished! I do too! I'm really hoping my brother who's visiting this weekend can somehow retrieve the eaten chapters from my old laptop so I don't have to re-type them from scratch...if he can you'll know because GG will get like 5 chapters in one day.

If not I have to write it ALL from scratch and you'll probably hear me crying if you listen reeeeeaaally closely to your computer speakers... O.o

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

* * *

The music was pumping. I loved this song. Tamsin still didn't let me pick my own music, or have any say in my routines but I had to admit accepting another folded twenty from one of my regulars with a smile, and a peck on his check. Her dance routines got results, at least in the tip department. I'd made the move from wait staff to dancer almost 6 weeks ago, and I was no longer bothered by men…and sometimes women handing me money when I stepped off stage. I even had somewhere around twenty customers I actually knew by name. I'd been so freaked out when I learned I'd be pole dancing in public but now it was as normal to me as chasing a skip down the street. It paid a hell of a lot better too.

"Hey Sweetcheeks!" a heavy accent drawled from my right.

"Edward," I grinned taking the ten he held out. "Always good to see you,"

"It be good to see more of ya," He drawled drunkenly and I rolled my eyes one hand dropping to my hip.

"You know we don't do that Ed, keep bringing it up and I'll have to let you talk to Buck."

Ed eyed the mountain of a man near the stage door, arms crossed eyes narrowed, gaze continually sweeping the length of the room to watch all the ladies at once. He quickly shook his head and held raised his hands palm up "Can't blame a guy for trying,"

True, but when it was the same offer over, and over it got old. Fast. Dominic was NOT an establishment that allowed what he called 'funny business'. "That shit's illegal, and attracts the wrong kinds of clientele. That kind of shit gets you shut down, and arrested. This is art, not ass." He'd growled when I'd freaked out two months back. I'd worried that might be all talk; that funny business might have still been on the menu maybe in a back room—until the first time I watched Dom bounce someone off the pavement himself for getting too wasted or just being too stupid to follow the rules.

It probably helped that Dom's wife was a dancer—she actually ran the Bittersweet Studio I'd been training at, was an instructor, and even participated in sports competitions for pole. Dom kept a string of linebacker sized men like Buck, Gus and Hew that would toss anyone that got handsy out on their ass in a heartbeat. Most of the clients here were blue collar type business men, Id met lawyers, CEO's and on weekends there was an endless rotation of bachelor parties. I'd even done two bachelorette parties, and they were fantastic tippers and really interested in finding out how long it took me to learn my moves, three of them had even started taking classes at the studio!

There were always a few more issues at private parties, despite the clearly stated contracts; they paid 1600 dollars for private parties that included three dancers, and one of the linebackers—and the same rules applied. Once even the most loud frat boy realized they were serious about the whole; _Touch the art, they break your wrist_. It wasn't a rule they had to enforce often. Dom's guys enjoyed their jobs as much as Ranger's Merry Men. And they were almost as large and daunting!

"Hey Jersey," Sara hit the locker room door the same time I did. "A bunch of us are getting out at One and going to Sin Street, you wanna go?"

Sin Street was the other strictly pole dancing club in a five block radius, they also strictly enforced the G string and No touching rule. I'd learned just two weeks ago that Yvonne's girlfriend since High school had started as a Bartender in college, and when Yvonne got interested in Pole dancing classes at her local gym she'd gotten Ember to go with her. During their sophomore year they'd both switched from waitressing and bartending at a local restaurant to dancing.

I was surprised to learn they both had bachelor degrees—Yvonne in business and Ember in Political science, they both minored in communication; but after a short stint in a lower level management position in an office Yvonne quickly decided she preferred working at the club— she said the guys hit on her in both places but somehow the guys at the office who were supposed to be her coworkers—and many times the people that were supposed to report to her—it felt creepy and unsafe, after one of them had cornered her in the office supply room she'd had enough, but when she complained to HR they'd suggested that she was at fault for wearing an attractive pant suit. She said working in the club over the weekend paid more than two weeks of 9-5 office work, and if guys got handsy security threw them out on their asses and made sure they didn't come back. After her experience in the office her girlfriend Ember never quit.

I guess Ember realized after college it was answer phones in a political campaign office—work at Starbucks or this…and we made way better money then Starbucks. And I can't imagine answering phones for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week; I got a serious cramp in my ass just thinking about it. Yvonne laughed that she wished they'd figured all this out before they both had student loans—but she figured one day they could open their own bar or manage one when they no longer wanted to be entertainment.

I could completely understand, as a product buyer for EE Martin I'd had tons of skeevy office perverts try to look down my blouse, up my skirt and grab my ass—most of them had their wives photos on the desk! It made me feel both disgusted and nervous every time I had to meet with someone I knew was a man. It was both infuriating and in a weird way—bonding to find that Yvonne, Ember, and most of the other ladies I worked with had suffered in silence through the same experiences.

It was also one of the reasons Dominic made self-defenses classes, and having one of the security team walk you to your car or the subway station down the block mandatory for employment. He also had an endearing habit of putting tiny air horns and pepper spray containers on everyone's keychains.

"So, Sin Street?" Sara prompted while I fixed my hair in the mirror, I'd gotten a few sticky-uppy whacko curls pulling my sports bra top on. "Come on its Em's birthday tomorrow, we wanna celebrate! The big twenty-five! Plus it's your two month Pole-a-versery!"

"Yes, I'll go, but I don't get off until One-thirty though, is that okay?"

"Perfect Von has to change, and Tamsin's bar replacement doesn't come in until One, fifteen. Von said Em is working til three and we're all gonna hit up that breakfast place over on Beklin street?"

"The Waffle Palace?"

"Yup,"

My mouth was watering just thinking about it and my stomach growled in anticipation. Sara started laughing.

"Great, now all I can think about is waffles with French vanilla butter and flavored pecan syrup!"

Sara grabbed a chocolate chip granola bar from her locker and tossed it at my head, by some miracle I actually caught it one handed. "Thanks," Sara kept laughing, while I stuffed the whole bar into my mouth in two bites and headed to the floor.

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to be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** **This wacko is all mine.** **Warning, Dark Shit ahead!**

 **Notes:** **Heavy M chapter** for a _severely_ sick, twisted mind. This chapter is all the serial killer-I included it because I felt like the story was sort of incomplete without a peek into his depraved world...but I separated it into it's own chapter because it's one of the darkest things I've ever written and I'm sure that's not everyone's cup of tea.

You can probably skip this chapter if you really don't like dark/twisty thoughts of an obviously depraved lunatic, and the over-all story should still make sense to you.

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so, WARNINGS: Murders, nasty language, deviant sexual behavior, depraved thoughts and cruelty towards women ahead. Please skip this if that is going to put you into a major funk!

This was an interesting challenge to write, I hope-for what it is, and as dark and twisted as it had to be, that I did it justice.

Having said that, I also don't ever want to write him again. **Yuck**.

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Thanks for the favorites and reviews, as always! you guys rock!

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 **Chapter Nine**

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 _The music pounded in his chest like a physical blow. His heart stuttering out of time with the discordant beat, it set his teeth on edge._ _He prowled across the darkened room snarling at the bumbling idiot, too drunk to control his own feet and avoid stumbling into him._ _White hot anger flashes through him tingling along his skin and his lips curl back from clenched teeth feeling the cold liquid now soaking through his shirt front—not a huge spill, but enough to mat the material against his skin._ _It clings to him shifting as he moves the sensation making him itch to rip the shirt off and stuff it down this moron's throat…His hands are fisted in the drunks shirt front before he realizes he's moved…not good, he's on edge tonight, he forces a deep breath in through his nose and tries to ignore the scents assaulting his senses._

 _"_ _M'sry Maaan," the words reek of tequila and he has to force himself to let go of the man's now heavily wrinkled shirt. It won't due to cause a scene tonight and be thrown out, especially if it means he'll be remembered—or not allowed back in._

 _It's not this drunken pathetic lump he's furious with tonight—it's himself._

 _"_ _It's alright," he offers, forcing a neutral expression onto his face to replace the open hostility he's sure has gathered at least one of the security staffs attention._ _"_ _Just an accident,"_ _He forces the words out with his carefully schooled expression_ _watching as the other man mutters a slurred, "Tanks, man…" and ambles off toward the entertainment. A semi-circle of equally inebriated patrons are waiting for him at a glass littered table near the stage._

 _They disgust him, drunken, sloppy and depraved._

 _He continues on his hunt skirting his way around the other dark outlines in the strobing darkness to find an empty seat at the bar. He's a leopard in a concrete jungle of writhing flesh, camouflaged with ever changing spots to blend to his surroundings, attract his prey, put her at ease…_

 _"_ _You okay?" Her voice is like a balm to the soul._

 _"_ _Yeah, Rough day," he turns his stony features into a rueful smirk he's carefully practiced in the mirror time and time again. People expect emotions, facial expressions; they depend on them like crutches._ _She laughs at his expression patting him consolingly on his dry shoulder and grabbing a napkin from underneath the bar top to set in front of him._ _She smiles and her eyes sparkle in her special way._

 _She asks him about his day, and he engages her in the slightly edited story of his last customer—he makes it a man as he tells her when really it was just a uppity cunt who took one look at his grease stained trousers and gloved hands and thought she was better than him. The bitch had been completely unreasonable. He'd wanted to snap her neck right there on the spot, grab the socket wrench he'd just been using and bash her fake blonde highlights into the concrete floor of the garage…his manager showing up was the only reason she was still alive._

 _Bitch had gotten him written up too, almost suspended. Fucking whore._

 _His Angel shakes her head and gasps with a "no way!" and "What a Jerk!" at all the appropriate places while he sips his drink, nurses it slowly. He's far too close to the edge tonight to take chances; his mood hangs by a thread. She stands close to him, touching his shoulder, his arm. She wants him._ _She's drawn to him, maybe this is it._ _Tonight might be the night._ _His blood sings with the possibilities and his body stirs._ _He'll play on her sympathies, lure her outside—he just needs a friend, after weeks she knows he's harmless._

 _He opens his mouth to ask her to step outside, so his fragile nerves can have a smoke—but her attention has been drawn away. Anger claws at his gut, no big deal he reminds himself, there's time…there's always time. He's a patient predator, he can wait._

 _His eyes follow her gaze to the door, interested in what's drawn her attention, jealousy and anger spiral around in his insides twisting his knots tighter. There's a new group that's just come in the door, not unheard of in a place like this, but still uncommon enough to draw several eyes._ _A bachelorette party taking a walk on the 'wild side' perhaps, or a group of curious college girls that consider this rebellious act a thumb in the eye of their religious bible-thumping blue-collar Mommy and Daddy._

 _He snorts to himself taking a swig of jack and coke._ _Dumb Whores, all of them._

 _"_ _I'll be right back,"_

 _She's gone before he can agree or argue, moving across the darkened club with obvious purpose, Interesting, part of his brain notes. Most certainly the male aspect he usually ignores, meanwhile the dark monster in him watches through narrow slited eyes calculating the odds of still getting her alone tonight, outside._

 _He snarls, drawing in an enraged hiss when his Angel throws her arms around one of the newcomers. No need to panic, he tries to draw a deep breath, it quickly hisses back out between clenched teeth as their lips meet._

 _Seething rage bubbles through his insides, No. Not her. Not His Angel._ _The pain in his hand draws his attention to the jagged shard of glass that used to be his glass._

 _Shit. Fuck. Careless._ _He berates himself, he should have better control._ _He quickly wipes the bar top and retreats towards the back hallway, broken glass and bloodied napkin pressed to his hand careful not to drip on the darkly carpeted floor beneath his feet._

 _The lights in the bathroom are pale and morose compared to the sweeping strobes and high beam spot lights of the bar, the cut isn't as bad as he initially feared. A thin slice he applies pressure to over the sink with a damp wad of paper towels._ _The pain centers him—loosens the tightness in his chest._ _He presses harder with the pad of his thumb breathing deeply for the first time today._ _Clarity of thought comes with the pain, lets him make plans, allows the seething rage to move to the corner of his mind and simmer._

 _She lied to him._

 _She is filthy, unworthy, a whore—just like the others, though a different kind of whore. He will teach her what happens to filthy whores._

 _Twenty minutes later paper towels wrapped firmly around the no longer bleeding cut on his palm, he pulls a latex glove from deep in the bottom of his trouser pocket sliding the tight second skin over his flesh. He will return another night, it's too risky now even with the sink wiped down, the broken glass shard washed several times before being crushed under his boot to near dust wrapped in a paper towel before being dropped into the bottom of an overflowing waste basket._ _Any of the blood soaked paper towels used to treat his wound have been ripped into thin strips and flushed down the toilet over the span of several minutes._ _There should be no evidence of his injury here._

 _He pushes through the bathroom door back into the darkened back hallway a flash of light in his peripheral vision draws his attention. The backdoor to the narrow side alley between buildings is open._ _White hot anger boils up through his chest, rage claws at his gut twisting and churning his insides like acid._ _He watches both figures slip through the open door, hands entwined giggling together like fucking school girls._

 _He's moving down the dark hallway before he's even processed the thought, but he doesn't stop once he reaches the door, instead he draws the second latex glove from his trouser pocket and works his naked right hand inside. He cannot ignore such an opportunity. His left hand moves to finger the folded six inch hunting knife clipped inside the waistband of his pants before pulling the stun gun from his internal jacket pocket._

 _The light is green he notes absently, it should be he has three of them, one at least is always charging while he's away. It wouldn't do at all to go back to fighting them while they struggle, no he likes this so much better._ _An almost maniacal glee paints his features in a mockery of true happiness._

 _He's going to get those bitches._ _He's going to get them so good._

 _He cracks the door just enough to peek out, can't see them just yet, indecision tugs at him momentarily before he slips through letting the door click shut silently behind him, one hand on the external handle to soften it's close._

 _They haven't noticed him still, too busy sticking their forked tongues down each other's throats. The tread of his soft soled boots is silent on the litter strewn concrete in the darkened alley._ _He must be quick; he's never had two at once._ _The thrill excites him beyond measure, they're still oblivious to his company until he presses the stun gun to the cheating whore's neckline._ _The voltage leaps through them both instantly locking muscles and freezing them against the scarred brick like human statues._ _Their lips are still locked together, drool slides down one of their chins as he watches._

 _He snarls jamming the taser harder into flesh, the current clicks and hisses burning flesh, he can smell it._ _He keeps the trigger depressed, watches with rapt fascination as their skin goes from red, to very pale and finally faintly tinged blue—they make no attempt to move, they can't even draw a breath until he says so._ _He likes that, it excites him further, this is so much easier than when the bitches used to claw and kick and try to crawl away._ _So much cleaner, so much simpler and more satisfying to not have to deal with endless frustrations._

 _His Angel would never fight back, she hadn't because she'd known better, she'd known he was doing the right thing._

 _The blade of his knife is out with a simple tug of one hand, the flick of a wrist. Simple, so simple he muses._ _He releases the trigger pressing his forearm to the bitches upper back—keeping them pinned and swings his right arm in a wide arc slamming the blade into her back._ _He doesn't want to suffocate them tonight, no._ _Tonight he wants violence, his body hums with the electricity in the air, the thrill of the attack._ _He craves the release of punishing his Angel for her betrayal, but first he's going to ruin the bitch for leading her astray._ _His arm yanks back before returning again and again, her body does little more then shudder with each strike, so effortless—it's like a sigh._ _The first few strikes so quick his gloved hands remains dry._ _She sags against his Angel, pinning her to the wall, her shirt now blooming black in the filtered streetlight like botched tie-dye._

 _Eyelids flutter and a moan bubbles out of lips._

 _Moaning Whore, Liar, Filthy slut, the rage bubbles back up, mingles with the glee of release twisting him tighter, he presses the taser against flesh again teeth gritted and bared in a fierce expression of equal parts pleasure and fury. He's chanting as he slashes again, the brunette slides away to crumple against the cement but he doesn't stop, no now the real punishment begins!_ _The butt of his taser drives a bone breaking blow, then his fist, his boot, and finally the knife._

 _"_ _Whore! Whore!" he's worked himself into a blind frenzy, her face little more than a ruined pulp, her once seductive body oozes red and gaping on the pavement._ _He pays particular attention to the parts of him she's taunted him with for weeks, until she's nothing more than spoiled meat._

 _His blood thrums, his cock is rock hard in his pants, she's wearing a skirt now bunched over her hips like the whore she is, her thighs sliced to ribbons._ _"_ _Filthy Slut," he mutters repeatedly he's got his zipper open when he hears the sound that freezes his blood cold._

 _The back door to the club they've all come through is opening. But luck is with him tonight, oh yes._ _Fate is his mistress the temptress herself._ _It's dark in the alley and the door opens hiding him from immediate view._

 _He darts quick as an alley cat despite the intense throbbing of his flesh—dives into the inky shadows mere feet away, tucked against the shadows half hidden by a dumpster parked there._ _He melts into the darkness, watches with carefully controlled breathing, fingering his knife with one hand as someone emerges from the club._

 _His breath catches, they could be twins almost, but this Angel has a leaner frame, longer legs and a delicate heart shaped face. Her wild curls tumble around her head lifted by a stiff breeze from the mouth of the alley when she turns her head searching the darkness her voice calling out._ _He watches her from the shadows cry out in horror—intrigued that instead of running back inside the moment she spots them she instead dives towards their broken bodies, certainly skinning her knee of its delicate alabaster flesh._

 _He was only half finished with her whore of a sister, yet blood stains her hands, her knees where she kneels beside them in the spreading pool of life. She's crying, calling their names._

 _He jerks at the sudden feel of hot slippery fingers gliding along his own flesh—glad his clothing is dark and splotched in various patches and places with a mix of oil and other fluids from work. No one will notice a new stain, no one will question it. His fist tightens in a strangle hold that boarders on painful._ _Grazing his closed fist in stilted jerks tightening his grip until it's almost too painful, she looks up and he swears their eyes meet just as he spurts silently into his other waiting hand still mindful even in release not to leave a trace of his presence._

 _Yes, oh God yes, that's it._

 _He sighs in relief freezing when she jerks to her feet._ _She's staring right at him._ _His heart stops, then he breathes an almost silent sigh of relief as her gaze continues on, sweeping the darkened shadows, That cerulean blue perfection keeps sliding back to his position, as she takes a staggered step backward, and then another—eyes still searching the darkness._

 _Interesting. His Angel can sense his presence it would seem, even as she mourns the death of her whore of a sister she's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, though she certainly doesn't see him…if she did she would have run by now. She searches for a few more thrilling seconds before turning and racing back to the closed door of the club._

 _He uses the opportunity to flee, turning his gloves inside out and stuffing them deep in his pants pocket before carefully shaking his now limp dick back inside his pants and zipping himself closed. The stun gun and carefully closed knife are already tucked safely into the pockets of his jacket. He pulls the garment off hastily as he reaches the mouth of the alley way and jerks the sleeves turning it inside before sliding his arms back through and zipping the front closed over his dark shirt._

 _He pulls a cigarette from his now outer pocket, lighting it with a soft snick from his favorite lighter before drawing a deep inhale, the nicotine flooding his lungs humming with the residual pleasure of release through his blood stream._

 _He feels boneless, and yet hopelessly wound with a jittery excitement at once. Never before has She presented herself so quickly to him; it's always been a search._ _But it seems this time she is drawn to him; she knows there is no use in hiding._

 _He crosses the street on hand in his pocket, head down turned, casually almost towards the sidewalk beneath his feet—keeping his face carefully hidden in shadow._ _He doesn't need to stay, soon the cops will arrive—bumbling morons._ _Then the carrion hunting reporters, they'll swarm like locusts._ _He smiles exhaling a cloud of smoke that trails behind him in the night._ _They'll post pictures, and details, release names and jobs all in a desperate race to beat one another to ratings._ _He doesn't need to watch from the crowd—they expect that, watch for familiar faces…and he's so much smarter than them._

 _They'll do most of the work for him—He'll have her name by the end of the week; after all she found the bodies—was covered in their blood. No reporter will be able to resist a juicy tidbit like that._

 _They'll tell him who she is, and then he will meet her and this time it will be different. This time she'll be worthy if he has to kidnap her and lock her away to keep her pure, he will._ _He should have known better all those times before—they were mistakes, all of them._ _Those others were weak, tempted by flesh, they could never have satisfied him._ _But not this time, this time she's perfect._

 _He smiles blowing smoke into the night, It won't be long now._

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to be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes:** This was is a LONG chapter, but I felt like I had a lot of ground to cover, and breaking it up was tricky. I'm trying to not spend too much time/detail on the background stuff and focus on moving the plot along but it is tricky. The story is almost 100 pages already on Word with this and the future bits I have written and I TOLD myself I was going to keep this story a manageable length. *sigh*

As always, thank you guys so much for reading, reviewing and any PM's! I hope those of you that couldn't read the last chapter are okay with this one as it's still DARK but this is ALL Steph's POV. I tried not to be graphic but I had to still be true to the kind of story/situation I've placed her in...I think I got it, I'm not going to obsess over it so Here it is!

I've got one more short section and then I can put out about 20 pages at once. Lets hope the little whipper snappers that call me Mum cooperate! LOL I have TOO many other fanfics to get to! ; )

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 **Disclaimer:** Not mine! Darn! ; )

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 **Chapter Ten**

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By the time we hit the door at Sin City it was pushing 2am and my stomach had long since forgotten the granola bar and was rumbling loud enough that it was making the other girls laugh. Ember was almost finished with her shift and then we were going to hit up the 24 hour Waffle Palace which was just a five block walk away. Since there were at least eight of us going at this point—and we might pick up a few more girls here we'd decided to hoof it the few blocks despite the late hour rather than take several taxis, we could have walked 2 blocks to the subway, but then we'd have to walk another two blocks to the Palace—and that seemed silly even to me, subway credits aren't cheap! My stomach let out a particularly angry protest.

"Jesus Jersey! Sounds like you ate a bear!"

I stuck my tongue out at Becca and then what ever she said in response was impossible to hear over the volume of heavy bass flooding the room. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the lower light level after the street lamps on the walk over. Sin City felt darker inside then Dom's, but the black and dark blood red paint on the walls and behind the bar might have added to that effect. The wait staff didn't wear much more than the dancer's here—and might have been interchangeable for all I could tell.

"Let's grab a drink!" Alicia one of the youngest in our group—just barely legal age was pulling on my elbow and bouncing to the beat, the words said at the same decibel my Mother would have used to call us in when we were ten minutes late to wash up before dinner as kids.

"Not on an empty stomach!" I yelled back and she popped out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout for a moment.

Em must have been watching the door waiting for us to get here, when I looked up from shaking my head at Alicia's pout she was already moving towards us almost skipping despite the dark room and the height of her heels. She flung her arms around Yvonne nearly tackling her to the ground.

"Happy Birthday!" I could barely hear someone crow over the music then "Geeze! Get a Room!" Becca shouted at them a moment later laughing at their lip-lock.

"I want you to meet somebody!" Em announced a moment later still grinning, arms around her girlfriend's neck.

I couldn't hear Von's response with her back to me and the music but Em winked at her and then grabbed her hand waving us all to follow her down the two steps to the lowered section of the club headed towards the bar.

"Yay! Drinks!" Alicia cheered following beside me and I shook my head knowing it was inevitable.

Lots of eyes followed us as we made our way across the room, I wasn't sure if it was simply the presence of a large group of women or the public make-out session that had garnered the most attention but I definitely got a few winks and one or two "Hey Baby!" that I pretended not to hear as we approached the bar.

"Who?" I heard Von asking while Ember turned her head to scan the bar, and then the room before leaning over the bar top to ask the blonde bartender something. She shrugged clearly not knowing the answer to whatever Em had asked and Em looked crestfallen for a second. She beckoned us forward again, up two steps to the edge of the room and into a large empty booth that had a table topper marked RESERVED on it. We were the farthest from the stage, and the majority of the speakers but it was still loud enough that we had to shout at one another, my throat would probably be scratchy tomorrow thanks to the lingering smoke and yelling. I was glad I worked at Dom's and not here, I didn't know how Ember dealt with it—I'd be half deaf in a day I'd thought Dom's was loud. I'd gotten really good at lip-reading to tell what customers were saying when the songs were too loud, but by comparison this was nothing. I had to stare at everyone's face and concentrate to match the snatches of sound I could hear with the words I thought they were saying.

"Who did you want me to meet?" Von said clearly as the current song ended as we all slid into the booth and one of the waitresses brought over a tray stacked with plastic beer mugs and a light yellow pitcher.

"Hey, we didn't order beer!"

"On the House!" she shouted back grinning then she winked at Em "I think Mac is hoping you guys will all get drunk pair off and make out so he can sell more alcohol to all the disappointed horny dudes watching!"

A chorus of "Ha he wishes!" and "Only if we get tips!" made her laugh.

The waitress said something that made the girls closest to her throw their heads back laughing and slapping the table but I couldn't hear her or tell what she said. Em slid across the booth seat a second later though and straddled Von's lap bumping the table with her butt and making everyone crack up again.

"Take it outside!" I had to squint hard in the darkness to be certain it wasn't actually my cousin Vinnie from the Bonds office walking towards us with a huge grin. The similarities and darkness was startling, not to mention the setting. Vinnie would probably love to run an exotic dance club. "You'll get them all riled up, I'll have to throw half of 'em out the door. I wanna make money not toss it outside on its ass!" He barked but he was still grinning. He set a bowl of lime wedges and a tray of shot glasses and a salt shaker on the table before kissing Ember on the cheek and clearly wishing her a happy birthday because she ' _awwwwwed'_ at him and hugged him back.

"For me?" She was grinning at the guy—who must be her boss or the owner I realized.

"Ya, ya, drink up and then get out I want to see you on shift tomorrow night and not hungover!" Shot glasses and beer went around the table.

"No! I don't want to do a shot!" I hadn't had any alcohol since the fateful night I'd gone out with Lula and Sally Sweet and ended up in this mess…I didn't really feel like the night out and my stint as undercover bait were dependent on each other. These sort of messes just seem to happen to me.

Sara put one in front of me anyways slamming her own back with one hand—forgoing the salt.

"Come on! It's Em's Birthday!"

"Me and Alcohol don't mix!"

"What's wrong Jersey? Afraid you'll give us all a lap dance?"

Becca, Alicia and Sara started slapping the table top and chanting "Jersey, Jersey, Jersey!" In time with my, "no, no, No!" They just kept getting louder.

"I thought we were getting waffles?" I shot back.

"Breakfast later!" Alicia crowed, "Shot now!"

 _Ugh_. "Fine!" I went through the ceremony of licking my wrist, shaking salt, licking it off, slamming the shot back and biting into the bitter lime wedge shaking my head and shuddering. "Uggghah!" _Nasty_.

"Here! Chase it with this!"

I eyed the piss colored liquid being thrust at me skeptically.

"Come on! It's basically barley water it's so light!"

It did taste better than the tequila still burning my throat. We turned down at least four offers of free drinks and one drunken proposition over the next five songs, Sara was trying to tell me about her new apartment and I was almost finished with my beer. Alicia and Becca were swinging their hair to the beat mouthing the words—or maybe singing I couldn't hear them and rolling their hips in against the bench seat in a little dance.

"It's getting late." I pointed out shouting to be heard. Tam was expecting me for advanced pole class at eleven am. I really needed to get at least a little sleep or I'd probably pass out and land on my head!

"She's right! Someone go get Yvonne and Em!"

"Where'd they go?"

"Towards the bathroom?"

"Nah, Outside probably." The waitress yelled bringing another round of beer. "Back hallway." She pointed over her shoulder to the same hallway that led to the restrooms.

"I'll go," I shouted over the music, "I have to pee anyways!"

"Don't break the seal!" Alicia was yelling while Sara slide out of my way and informed me I had a bladder the size of a gerbil. I rolled my eyes at them and made my way down the hallway turning down an offer for a drink, a lap dance and ignoring several cat calls. _Men_.

I found the black painted door marked **_Women_** the cheap florescent lighting inside was harsh and unflattering. I took care of my screaming bladder and rolled my eyes at the lack of soap in the dispenser. I had to shake the water from my hands before wiping them on my skirt since there were no paper towels either, most of them seemed to be in the trash can already. I was definitely revisiting the bathroom at the dinner before we ate, god only knows how dirty the table top out there was, not to mention the door handle and the toilet stall. Ugh. Exiting the bathroom I held onto the door handle for a moment blinking to adjust to the sudden sightlessness of the back hallway between the low light and the black paint. I followed the last ten feet past the men's room door and another door marked **_Office_** with a reflective gold and block letter sticker that was peeling up and curling at the corners.

The heavy metal black door security door to the alley opened with a twist of the handle and a shove from my shoulder. The waft of air against my face from outside was refreshing compared to the stale air of the club even with the faint lingering trace of cigarette smoke. The alley appeared empty as I pushed the door open further calling for Yvonne and Ember, not really thrilled about stepping outside by myself in the middle of the night. Memories of visiting the alley besides the bonds office with Ranger flickered through my mind. I hope I didn't' catch them in some kind of…

All the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and a sudden intense wave of dread shot through my stomach. I really didn't want to step out here. _You're being stupid Stephanie, It's just dark._ I blew out a breath and called out again pushing the door open further, "Yvonne? Em?"

The breeze pushing up the narrow passageway from the street a good hundred feet away shifted my hair, a few stray curls tickled the beads of sweat that had broken out across my skin. "Em?" _Where the hell? Maybe they were still inside, maybe I'd missed them in the bathroom somehow…_

The alley appeared empty yet my spidey-sense was going haywire and the prickling sensation washing up my arms making all the little hairs stand up in alarm was freaking me out, my stomach twisted with fear. _Maybe they'd gone in the office instead of coming out here—as far as I knew Von didn't smoke, but maybe Em did?_ I kept searching the darkness imagining monsters like Ramirez, Stiva and Abruzzi moving closer to me…

 _Stop it Stephanie_. _There's no one out here!_

My heart was racing and my palms started to sweat despite my internal reassurances. My eyes landed on the shapes lumped against the concrete near the dumpster, the dark black puddle on the reflection-less pavement. They looked like crumpled lifeless bodies with the shadows robbing my eyes of details, playing tricks on me… _Garbage_ , I told myself, _Restaurant bags torn open by a stray cat_ …but the pulse of adrenaline and sheer terror that gripped me, knotting my stomach and zipping down my spine like lightening told me differently.

I don't remember moving, letting go of the door—two steps closer the shapes were more distinctive and infinitely wrong—I knew beyond a doubt they weren't spilled garbage bags. _No, no, no no_ …my brain was screaming at me every instinct in my body on high alert. _Turn around,_ my body screamed, _Run!_ But I kept moving closer. I had no control over my feet; some strange autopilot brought on by disbelief or shock drawing me forward, still trying to tell myself I was wrong _, it was a rolled rug—a sleeping homeless person, something Anything but dead bodies_ _it had to be, it couldn't be…_ when the features of her face suddenly snapped into focus like a punch to the chest, my knees gave out. My body hit the pavement with a wet jarring thud that rattled my teeth; the puddle was warm against my suddenly clammy skin. _Blood,_ Some detached still functioning corner of my brain informed me. _I'm kneeling in blood._ The rest of my head felt like white noise, static, a blank slate of panic and horror.

My mouth was open, gasping for air I may have screamed I don't know, I couldn't hear it. I couldn't hear anything over the pounding of my heartbeat and the raspy panic of my own voice in my head. A wave of nausea hit me and I choked back tequila and cheap beer fouled bile.

 _Jesus! Don't vomit on the bodies Stephanie!_ Joe's voice from some long ago crime scene filtered through my head and I sucked in a deep breath. _Focus Stephanie, Breathe Babe, just breathe._ Now it was Ranger's deep soothing voice struggling to keep me calm. What was I supposed to do next? _Put pressure on the wound_. Right. I knew that…but I swallowed bile again hands shaking as my eyes only continued to rake over the body laid out before me… _put pressure on the wound, but which one?_ A sob tore out of my throat trying to ignore the glassy doll-like stare that not thirty minutes ago had been so full of life, laughter. Just thirty minutes ago we'd been celebrating Em's Birthday…

Em! I leaned forward over Yvonne's lifeless body to check Em, praying to God…but the thought died before fully formed. It wasn't Ember. My brain couldn't even make out her facial features through the swelling, and open wounds…like ground beef.

Revulsion shot through me and I gasped back a gag, then guilt and shame and a heavy dose of terror. This wasn't a gunshot wound to the head, this wasn't impersonal, and detached…this was ruthless, brutal; inhuman….you'd have to be insane to do this to another human being! I'd seen dead bodies before, _too many_ but never like this, someone brutalized them right here….

Alarm shot through me jerking my head up to stare wildly into the darkness, trying to find the outline of a human, moving shapes, and shadows in the pitch black space between the dim ring of light put off by the single bare light bulb above the rear door and the faint glow of street lamps at the mouth of the alley that now felt miles away.

He could still be out here, Right now. Watching me… _Run Steph_ …my breath was coming in hitched gasps that hurt my sides though I hadn't run a step. My mouth tasted like cheap beer, half rotted garbage and hints of copper.

 _Run_!

My neck prickled in alarm. Someone was watching me. _No, He's long gone, get it together Stephanie!_ Yet the sensation crawled over every inch of skin like a thousand tiny ants biting and stinging my flesh. _Run_! My eyes frantically scanned, over and over but there was no discernable outline, nobody stepped from the darkness with a knife and wicked smile, dead creepy killer eyes… But I couldn't shake the certainty that the darkness wasn't empty…

 _Run! God Damnit!_ _Run Stephanie before it's too late!_ Why couldn't I move?!

From somewhere in the darkness someone let out a deep guttural groan. My heart stopped, then felt like it exploded when it started up again before I'm even on my feet, already bolting for the back door. Someone was watching me! _No, It's your imagination Stephanie Knock it off!_

My hands are shaking—Hell, all of me is shaking, what if he's following me?! I can't look, the door is less than twenty feet away, it feels like hundreds...I swear I can hear footsteps echoing off the brick walls of the alley out…Please don't be locked, please don't be…I wrench the door open with a sob leaping into the near pitch black doorway catching my toes on the lip of the doorjamb, tears and snot mix on my face I lurch off the wall, slamming the door closed behind me with a frantic jerk to the handle, stumbling into the wall hard enough to rattle my teeth tripping over my own feet and uneven floor way in the darkness. The sound of my screams is lost in the never-ending bass still hammering through the air. _Run!_ I'm shaking, scream when I collide with a warm solid wall of a body so hard I bounce off and stumble backwards, landing sprawled on my ass. Hands grip my arms hoisting me up, I slap at them choking, I can't breathe!

Someone is shouting, a deep booming voice, someone else is shrieking, more hands grab at me and suddenly a familiar face swims into view. Vinnie.

What the Hell is Vinnie doing here? Lucille will kill him when she finds out, the though flashes through my brain before the difference in the bridge of the nose registers, the slight hook and bump of an obvious past break, the chin is too pointed…Not Vinnie, he's saying something to me, then to the mountain of a man I slammed into…he's wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with SECURITY across his chest. I can't make out their words, my head is buzzing, the music is pounding.

They push me towards the back hallway and panic claws at me, I slap and twist "NO! No!" a hand claps over my mouth and the Security guard the size of Hal picks me up, carries me despite my flailing legs, my hands beating at his arms.

I don't want to go back out there! It takes my panicked brain a moment to realize we're going through the other door…the one marked Office with the peeling gold sticker. The light in here is brighter—utilitarian like the cheap metal desk and beige filing cabinet, the plain black safe on the floor in the corner of the room. I keep staring at the safe, gasping for breath. It looks like the safe Ranger once had installed in the back of my closet….

 _Ranger, God I_ _ **need**_ _Ranger._ _He's supposed to be here._ _He_ _ **always**_ _knows when I need him, like magic._ _Any second now he'll pull up in his bat mobile, my personal knight in cargo pants and a tattoo tight t-shirt…Then Joe will show up in his POS police car shaking his head and saying "Another one Cupcake? Jeeze…"_

"Michelle! Michelle…"

 _Who's Michelle?_ Vinnie's face, no not Vinnie, the guy that looks like him is still saying something else, I make it out through the buzzing in my head a moment later, "Breathe Michelle!" I turn to look and realize it's just me, and the security dude… and that's right. _I'm Michelle_ — _Not Stephanie_. _There's No Joe, There's no Ranger. Just Me._

Not Vinnie is asking me questions, the buzzing in my head is gradually fading. "Dead," I finally choke out, "Vo..on…and Emm…they're dead…I went out to fff..ind them and they're dead."

The arms still holding me abruptly let go and the door opens and shuts behind my back softly. "Here, sit," –Not-Vinnie rolls a desk chair towards me. His eyes rake over me expression grim. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I feel myself say dropping stiffly onto the cheap fake leather chair.

"You see anybody?"

My skin prickles again like tiny razor blades gnawing at my flesh. "No, but I heard…I don't know...It was dark."

His frown deepens and he leans on his desk handing me a small square box of cheap tissues while I blow my nose and try to calm my hitched breathing. Behind my back the door opens again, I jerk to see the Security guy poke his head in. "Cops are here," He says quietly, "They're asking for the person that found the…"

"We'll be right out." Not-Vinnie cuts him off before he say the word.

 _Bodies. The Person that found the Bodies._

 _"_ _You gonna make it?" Not-Vinnie asks me._

I nod with a jerk. _I have to be._ I've had enough experience with this to know they need a statement. This won't just go away, no matter how bad I might want it to, even if I'm positive I won't be any help.

I get to my feet and sway slightly. Not-Vinnie steadies me with a hand at my elbow, he seems like an okay guy despite the startling similarities to my Sleaze-ball cousin. He leads me out the office door and outside, the back door is now propped open. The hallway lights are on and the music has stopped. The black paint on the wall is peeling in a few places near the ceiling, it feels like a cheap gothic décor with the lights on. He should fire his decorator.

"This her?" I blink up at the cop, expecting Eddie, or Big Dog for a moment before remembering that they won't be here either.

"Yeah, she found them, She's pretty shook up still."

The alley is no longer dark. It's filled with headlights and the nauseating repetitive flash of neon blue, and red bouncing off the brickwork, washing out skin tones to ghostly white and making my hands and arms look brackish.

Blood. I realize. I'm covered in it.

"She's pretty out of it," someone was saying again.

"I'm fine now."

One of the cops shoots me a skeptical look. I can't even imagine what I look like to him; blotchy cheeks, covered in snot and tears, running mascara and blood.

"What's your Name?"

I open my mouth and then close it again gaping for a moment like a fish. Shit. This is a cop, this is a crime scene. Do I tell him my real name? or my cover?

"Shock," someone mutters.

"No," I mumble raising my hands to swipe at my eyes then freezing at the sight of my hands.

Shit.

Someone's fingers close over my wrists gently lower my hands out of sight again. "Can you tell me your name?" I'm not sure, I hesitate again and they continue with, "how about what happened? Can you tell me what you were doing outside?"

I nod and tell them everything. From arriving at the club to going to find Von and Em so we could leave, my suspicion someone was watching me, freaking out, and running back inside.

While I was talking one of them took notes, and someone else in uniform lead Not-Vinnie away for some questions I guess. I Remembered his name now, Mac. I finished answering their questions but didn't feel particularly helpful since I didn't know much. After repeating my story at least four times they had me sit in the empty back stoop on the other side of the alley, away from the activity, instructing me not to leave yet. I wanted to put my head in my hands, but I didn't want them touching my face. I settled for resting my head back against the closed door, closing my eyes.

I'd been sitting on the curb for…I don't know how long, but it felt like an eternity when someone sat down beside me and pushed a Styrofoam cup of steaming liquid into my hands. The scent hit me a second later.

"I don't thin…"

"It's Decaf Jersey, Drink it."

A million questions skittered through my tired brain. Tam hadn't been with us earlier. She wasn't dressed like that at Dom's. She was now wearing dark blue jeans, black boots and a plain grey hoodie over a nondescript black t-shirt. She looked like Joe, on the job right down to the face. Her expression was grim, her eyes sweeping over the alley, taking it all in. She was sitting with me, at a restricted crime scene and no one was questioning who she was, or how she got here.

"What's my name?" I asked quietly. The coffee had milk, and a butt load of sugar. The familiar smell calmed my nerves, gave my hands something to do.

She didn't look at me. Gaze firmly fixed on the flurry of activity I was trying desperately to ignore.

"You're Michelle Plume." She answered a moment later. "I'll take care of it."

I didn't ask how. Right now I didn't really care. Turns out finding your friends minutes after their murder puts one hell of a damper on curiosity. I just wanted to go home. Take a boiling hot shower and go to bed.

"Was it Him?" I didn't have to clarify.

Tamsin nodded her head slowly, frown deepening to crease the skin between her eyebrows. "Looks like it, he's getting worse, more violent."

"What now?" I asked sighing.

"Now crime scene takes your clothes, you put on this." She indicated the plastic bag I'd overlooked sitting by her boots. "We go home, and I don't know about you but Jack Daniels sounds really fucking good right now." She sounded as defeated as I felt.

The sun was coming up by the time I made it home. Tamsin asked me if I wanted her to stay but I told her no, she nodded and ordered me to lock the door then left. I shut it, locked it and headed straight to the bathroom stripping off the grey sweats I'd changed into in the back of one of the crime scene vans like they were on fire. I threw them into a pile on the floor, turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to scalding hot. Then I climbed inside, grabbed my bath puff and used all the hot water and half a bottle of Bvlgari body wash to scrub every inch of skin until the water finally ran clear and my skin was beat red.

I didn't think I'd be able to sleep, not after last night. But once I was clean and dressed in a soft t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts I was suddenly exhausted. I picked up my cellphone and sent Tam's a message saying I wouldn't be at class—not that I thought she was expecting me, but we hadn't discussed it either. I stared at it in my hand for a few moments, I wanted to dial Ranger, but I didn't think he'd answer—and what would I say?

I dropped the phone onto my bedside table. Then I pulled the curtains over the window blocking out the bright sunlight on a far too cheerful morning and climbed into bed where I cried for a few minutes silently wishing Ranger was here and then passed out.

.

* * *

To be continued...

(Nailed it? Hated it? This chapter makes me nervous! LOL)


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** : If you recognize the name it's not my character, the muse just wanted to take them for a spin!

 **Notes** : Trying to get this done, I want to finish some of my other stories while the muse cooperates!

Thanks for the reviews guys! I was really nervous about the last two chapters!

On we go!

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Four days later I was sitting in the locker room at work.

"Hey, Jersey," Tamsin plopped down next to me on the bench. "How you holding up?"

How _was_ I holding up? Truthfully, I wasn't really sure. I'd found plenty of bodies in the past during my work as a bounty hunter, and my few forays into more private eye type stuff—Way too many bodies. And it's not something you really get used to, it just sort of happened often enough that I had developed the ability to push through the moment, and then go home take a boiling hot shower to stave off the death cooties, and then I'd cope by eating enough Tasty-cakes to put me into a pre-diabetic coma.

That much sugar and lard in your bloodstream at once and it's hard to feel panicked about much of anything. I would know—I had extensive tasty-cake therapy experience. I'd get up the next day and try to forget about it.

But Yvonne was different. I'd known Yvonne, and Ember—if not quite as well. Neither one of them was some random stranger or criminal whose own poor choices and shady dealing shady contributed to a premature and violent end. She wasn't an 80-something year old grandparent laid out at Stiva's in her very best, cheeks rogued to a healthy glowing pink and eyes closed in the respite of eternal slumber.

Yvonne had been beaten and stabbed and I'd spent hours sitting on the cement leaning against the building surrounded by flashing lights trying not to watch the cops circle the bodies laid out on the pavement, avoid staring at my hands. The blue and red flashes turning her blood black against my pale skin.

I hadn't even thought about death cooties until now. Death cooties seemed impersonal and childish when compared to the images that seemed to be imprinted across the back of my eyelids every time I tried to sleep. I hadn't had nightmares like this since the Slayers incident a year ago, now I couldn't make it through the night without waking several times in a cold sweat, getting up to double check the locks on my door. I'd even taken to dragging a chair in front of the handle as an extra precaution.

 _How was I holding up?_ Part of me wanted to ignore all of it, shrug it off and go into denial land. I looked up and realized I'd been sitting in front of Yvonne's empty locker for the last ten minutes.

"I don't know." I whispered, "I don't think I'm okay," the words just tumbled out. Probably the first really honest thing I'd said in _Months_ , since this whole mess started certainly.

Tamsin slid down the bench until our thighs were touching, one arm draped over my shoulder pulling me into a half-hug. "Steph," she repeated my name quietly, probably so we didn't have to worry about anyone overhearing and wondering why she was calling me a different name. But I appreciated the gesture; it made me feel like she was speaking to _me,_ the _real me_ and not some identity we'd fabricated over the last few months. "I think you should go home this weekend," for some reason the suggestion made my vision blur and my chest feel tight. "You need a break from this—"

"—I can't quit,"

"—Do you want to quit?"

 _I didn't know_. I wanted this to all be over. I wanted to feel safe again. I missed my friends. I missed Ranger so bad my chest ached and it hurt to breathe just thinking his name…God help me I even missed my parent's house with the noise, overbearing questions and crowded bathroom. I wanted to sit in my Mother's cramped kitchen surrounded by the overwhelming scents of cooking and baked goods and just soak it in.

I wanted to eat a cookie from the tin she kept over the fridge and pretend for at least a day that I was just a kid again and safe; that nothing would get me, and the biggest worry I had was if Mary Lou would be available to go to the mall later to window shop. I didn't want to live with the constant anxiety and debilitating fear of wondering if I was being stalked by a serial killer, yet. Worrying that I would never get his attention and simultaneously horrified that I might already have it…Especially when I'd seen what he could do first hand—to my friends.

Tamsin squeezed me again and filled the silence, "I think you need a healthy dose of reality— because this is a fabricated story Steph, it's _not_ real. It's just a skin you have to wear to get the job done, got it?"

 _Sure it was a fabricated story—but it was a story that had the very real possibility of getting me killed. This wasn't pretend, finding Yvonne and Ember had driven that point home, brutally so._

"I don't know if I can do this anymore…" My voice cracked and I drew in a shuddering breath. I wasn't cut out for this undercover, double life shit. I wasn't Ranger, or Joe…I was just _me_ , Stephanie Screw-Up Plum. I swiped at the tears sliding down my cheeks suddenly.

"You _can_ do this. You're tough as nails. You're a tiger. You're just feeling wounded right now. You go home, lick your wounds, regroup and you get your ass back here and help me nail this sick son of a bitch to the God damn wall."

My breath left me in a rush. "You're not really a night club manager, are you Tams?"

She squeezed me once more and then let go standing up. "Whatever gave you that Idea?" Then she winked so quickly I might have imagined it and turned towards the door. "Go home Jersey, I don't want to see you til Tuesday. And Bring your A Game."

She walked out before I could figure out what to say.

.

* * *

.

I thought about not going home.

Going home might raise some uncomfortable questions in my current frame of mind, questions I wasn't positive I could instantly create answers in my funk. But the last thing I wanted to do was hide in my one room apartment for five days. Tamsin was right, I needed a break.

I needed to feel like ME, not Michelle Plume, Exotic dancer and Serial killer bait. I needed to feel like Stephanie Plum. I didn't feel like I could do that in New York. Even if I didn't set foot in Dominic's for a few days, everything about New York reminded me of why I was here, and despite the size of the City I was worried I'd somehow run into someone I knew as my alter ego and screw things up.

The phone call to my Mom the next morning was short. A quick hello, and telling her I had some time off, a long weekend for all the hard work I'd put in. She was thrilled, promising to have my Dad pick me up from the train station. "Bring something nice to wear," she ordered me before hanging up, "Everyone will be here on Sunday and I'd like us all to go to church together before dinner." I was too tired from lack of sleep and distracted to be suspicious.

Which was a mistake.

My Dad was already waiting in the taxi cab when I walked out of the Trenton train station a few hours later. He gave me a quick hug, and a 'Hi Pumpkin' then grabbed my suitcase by the handle and escorted me into the front seat. He tossed my bag in the back and climbed in.

"I feel I should warn you." He said after he'd already started driving.

"Oh, No."

"Don't look at me, wasn't my idea I told your mother to stay out of it."

"Oh God. What now?" A shifting rolodex of worsening images was scrolling through my head; Joe waiting for me at the house ready to pick up where we left off, some random bachelor she ran into outside the deli sitting on the couch, or worse Grandma's latest hot stud…

"He seems like a nice guy." My Dad offered keeping his eyes on the road.

" _Who_ seems like a nice guy?" I shot back through gritted teeth.

"Alex."

 _I should have stayed in New York._ I thumped my head against the back rest a few times letting it bounce off. "Is he there now?" I huffed.

"No, He's coming for dinner.

"Greeeeeeeat." I drawled biting off the t. "I thought she wasn't going to get involved?" I added a second later.

"She's your mother." My dad answered with a shrug. "She's involved."

 _Ugh_.

Twenty minutes later my Dad was dropping my suitcase in the foyer by the foot of the stairs and I'd stormed right into the kitchen.

"Mom!"

"Stephanie, you're hom…"

"Don't even! What the _Hell_ Mom?"

My mother's eyes widened then narrowed. "Don't talk to me like that young lady!"

"Thirty-Three!"

"What?"

"I'm Thirty-Three! For the love of all that is Holy Mother! I do not need you to line up men like Play-Dates!"

"Stephanie Michelle!"

"No! Could you please, for once in your life butt-out?!"

"That's ENOUGH!" My father bellowed from the doorway.

My mother and I both gaped and him.

"Both of you Sit Down, Now." We sat. "Now," My father announced from the other side of the table. "Helen I've tried to stay out of this but it's pretty clear to me, and should be to you that Stephanie does not enjoy being set up on blind dates, ambushed at family dinners and brow beaten into seeing that Morelli kid."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

"And Stephanie, I understand that you're upset but your Mother loves you and she just wants you to be happy."

"Then stop trying to set me up with people!" I cried out and my Father sighed.

"I'm sorry Stephanie."

 _Wait, What?_ "What?" I think my mouth was hanging open, I should probably close it.

"I know you said you weren't ready to see anyone, but this Alex guy has been by the house a few times," She explained looking contrite. "And he is a very attractive, and very nice man."

"Mom…" I whined slumping down in my seat.

She held her hands up, "I know, I know. I should stay out of it. I'm sorry. I promise I won't invite anymore available men to dinner without asking you first."

"Thank you!"

"But he's coming to pick you up at six."

 _Ughn_! I slumped forward and banged my head against the table.

"Oh, it's not that bad! It's one date!" My mother sniffed. "I even ran a background check on him."

My head popped up. "You did a what?"

"A background check." My mother repeated. "You can pay for it online. Mary Oliveto told me all about it!"

"You ran a background check on my date." Before or after she set me up I wondered?

"Well I figured after Dave we couldn't be too careful." My mother said.

 _Imagine that._

* * *

 **To be continued...**

 **.**

(Oh come on, you didn't think Steph's Mom could resist meddling just a little bit did you? LOL)


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

 **Notes:** It's about to get FUN! Enter the Man in Black!

Muhahahahaha!

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

* * *

The doorbell rang downstairs at five minutes to six.

 _Prompt_. My mother would be _thrilled_. I felt less so. I sighed heavily and swiped one more coat of mascara onto my lashes before staring myself down in the mirror with a frown.

"What the Hell," I told my reflection. "It's just dinner." _It wasn't like I was marrying the guy right?_ I'd just make polite small talk for the next possibly painful two hours at most and then I'd be home and my mother had promised me under threat of death to _never_ set me up like this again.

I doubted it would last that long, but I'd take any reprieve I could get.

"Stephanie! Alex is here!" My mother's voice called up the stairs. She actually sounded a little nervous, like maybe she thought I'd crawled out the bathroom window and dropped off the porch roof into the backyard. I thought about it, but the last time I did that I was 14, and I'd twisted my ankle and ripped the back pocket out of my jeans exposing my flowered underpants. Since I was in a skirt now the idea was even less appealing.

I rolled my eyes when she called me a second time.

 _Might as well get this over with_ I huffed blowing my bangs up. I hadn't gone all out—I hadn't even taken a shower, just changed clothes, refreshed my makeup and mostly spent the last thirty minutes alternating between making annoyed faces at myself in the mirror over the bathroom sink and trying to fain an interested face appropriate for being small talked to death.

Here goes nothing.

I tromped down the stairs with trying not to look like a sullen teenager being forced into an awkward family function. My Mother was sitting on the couch next to the blonde head of the guy I assumed was Alex. The back of my father's head was in his chair, football was on and he appeared to be pointedly ignoring us all. After his earlier outburst though I wasn't sure that was the case.

My mother must have heard me, or it was the patented _Mom Radar_ she usually uses to tell when offspring are returning to the nest—either way she jumped up and smiled at me, it looked a little forced. Guess she was worried how I was going to react after our blow up earlier.

"Stephanie! You look very nice!"

I paused on the bottom step lips pursed. I couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. I think maybe spending time with Tamsin was starting to rub off on me.

Alex had risen when my mother had and offered me a timid smile from across the room. "It's nice to see you again finally! You do look very nice." He looked normal enough. He was dressed in nice khaki pants that were pressed to a fine straight seam down each leg, a collared button up short sleeve shirt in a pale light green toped it, the shirt contrasted nicely with his dark blue eyes and surfer boy good looks _._

 _Not bad._ I could see how Lula had come up with the Moniker Mr. McDreamy.

My mother beamed so hard I thought her face might crack. I took a deep breath and bit my tongue to keep from rolling my eyes.

"Thank you, Shall we?" I moved towards the door eager to get out of the house and get this over with, probably not a fair sentiment to go with but I just wasn't in the mood to deal with this really, not after the last few days.

Alex followed me out and had to jog ahead of me to open the passenger side door of his car—a nice size four door foreign car. I didn't look at the emblem, or recognize the model. I didn't pay much attention to cars though it was rarely worth it—most of mine blew up or got trashed before the six month mark. The only car I ever paid serious attention to was a black Porsche 911 and that was simply because of who was _IN_ it.

Alex circled the car after shutting my door, waved to my mother who was on the porch to see us off and then he slid in behind the wheel closing his door. "Stephanie,"

"Alex."

He blew out a breath. "This is awkward. Do you even remember me?"

I bit my lip and slowly shook my head no.

"So you don't remember offering to have my babies?"

"WHAT?!" I shrieked.

Alex winked at me and a slow grin spread across his face he started laughing after a moment.

"You're kidding," I said staring at him fighting a grin myself feeling some of the tension slide out of my shoulders.

He showed me his palms and gave me a grin that was certainly disarming. "On second thought, it may have actually been your friend Lula. She was _very_ forward. I was a little afraid for my life."

"She usually is." I grinned shaking my head.

He sobered then and offered me his hand over the center consol. "In that case, Hi; I'm Alex, Alex Murphy,"

I shook his hand. "Stephanie Plum."

"Nice to meet you Stephanie," He grinned, " _again_. I was wondering If you would join me for Dinner?"

"Sure, I could do that."

"really?" He winked.

"Well, I'm already in the car." I pointed out with a wave of my hand.

"Yes, and if we sit here any longer I think your neighbor might call the cops."

I turned my head in time to see the curtains swing shut and groaned.

"It's like a Leave it to Beaver neighborhood." Alex said staring at the subtlety shifting window curtains again. "I can see why you left,"

"You have no idea," I agreed rolling my eyes.

"So, Italian?" Alex offered.

"Yes, that sounds great. I love Italian."

"Great! Me too!"

Alex kept up light conversation the whole drive to the restaurant, asking simple questions about how my job was going in New York and answering a few of mine when I felt like I should ask reciprocal questions in return. He was easy to talk to at least and kept the ride from feeling awkward, when we pulled up in front of Marsilio's and he turned the car off I was much more relaxed.

He circled the car at a jog to open my door and walked us both inside, it was early still for a Friday so they weren't too crowded yet. I was thankful I didn't see anyone that I knew glancing through the restaurant.

Dinner was mostly nice, there were only a few awkward pauses and Alex was good natured enough to carry most of the conversation lulls by asking me questions or telling me short stories about his friends, family and where he went to school. I felt like I knew more about him in an hour and a half then I knew about Ranger in three years. I didn't think there was much romantic interest on my part—but maybe in time there might be.

I chose not to too hard about why that thought left me squirming in my seat and feeling guilty. For once I knew it had absolutely nothing to do with Joe, and everything to do with someone else.

When we walked out of Marsilio's the tingle hit the back of my neck before the evening breeze even had a chance to ruffle my curls. The buzz along my skin was a live wire that could only mean one thing, my heart beat double time and my eyes immediately scanned the lot searching, lingering over the shadows positive he was there.

Finally I spotted him. He was leaned against his black Porsche 911 on the far side of the lot, ankles and arms crossed, a definite scowl etched across the hard lines of his face even from this distance. My stomach plummeted to my shoes, this wasn't the reunion I'd envisioned in my head for months. It was all wrong. I felt sick suddenly and wondered if I might throw up my alfredo sausage pasta, it felt like a rock in my gut.

Alex clasped my hand gently calling my name, trying to draw my attention…but I couldn't pull my eyes away from Ranger. His cold hard stare pinned me on the spot; a silent, menacing accusation.

I swallowed and felt my pulse race and a faint sweat break out across my skin.

I guess Alex finally realized who I staring at because I felt him draw closer to me, putting an arm around my shoulder like he was shielding me from a thug. In the shadows I swear I saw Ranger's scowl darken to murderous.

"Ex boy-friend?" Alex inquired softly.

"Uh, Friend." I corrected wondering if that was still accurate for the first time in a long time.

"Big Friend." Alex commented dryly. "Doesn't seem very friendly,"

 _No, he didn't_. Guilt and pain I didn't want to examine too closely clawed at my insides leaving me feeling raw and close to tears. _Why should I feel guilty though?_ I wasn't seeing Ranger, I hadn't seen Ranger in Months! And besides, Ranger didn't 'See' people. Ranger loaned cars, guns, jobs and made deals when he was feeling 'friendly'.

Somehow my heart still felt like it was breaking apart inside my chest.

Ranger nodded once, uncrossed his arms and slid into his Porsche. I couldn't hear the engine catch from this far away but I heard the wheels burn rubber as he flew off into the night.

I let out a deep shaky breath and cleared my throat.

"Well, I guess he's in a hurry. Can I interest you in some ice cream?" Alex tried to steer me towards the car.

"Um, No thanks I'm really tired. It's been such a long week with work. I think I'd just like to go home." Truth be told I'd completely lost my appetite.

 _I know, me turning down dessert. Call the Press, call FEMA and the FBI…_

Alex dropped me off with little more fan-fare then I polite peck on the cheek. He asked if he could take me out again sometime and I felt like I should be polite, telling him I was really busy in New York and didn't know when I'd be back again, but that would be nice. He hadn't been a horrible date after all. I think he could tell that seeing Ranger had put me into a serious funk, even if I tried to pass it off as simply being tired.

"A good night's rest and you'll be good as new!" My mother had blustered when I came in.

 _I wish it were that simple_. I kept the details to a minimum despite her many questions—there really wasn't much to tell. He was nice, polite and handsome even...And yet somehow as appealing as a wet dishrag, though I didn't think that was his fault.

I guess that's the problem with seeing Ranger, even if it's only for a moment and knowing full well he can never be mine.

 _No one and nothing else compares._

* * *

 _To be continued..._

 _._

 _So we've met Alex, and What is Ranger's problem?! *wink*_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

Thanks for the reviews! You guys rock!

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

When I ventured downstairs at almost 11am the next morning my Mother greeted me. "I've got cold cuts in the fridge, would you like a sandwich?"

In the past I'd have accepted without hesitation, usually because my own fridge was barren and my bank account frequently bordered on destitute—Especially after rent and utilities were due. It was a novel experience to not have to check my account on my phone before eating out—or hold my breath in the checkout line praying my card wasn't declined. I honestly wasn't sure after all this mess was over if I could go back to working at Vinnies because I didn't know if I could handle the stress of living paycheck to paycheck again.

I'd never realized just how stressful my constant worrying about money, and bills had become. I'd just existed in this permanent bubble of denial and nail biting anxiety. It had hit me about three weeks ago when I'd been standing at the checkout counter in this amazing athletic store in New York buying new workout clothes (I know, bizarre) The girl behind the register had finished ringing everything up and the total had been over 300 dollars—Id sucked in a breath thinking, I'm going to have to put half of this stuff back…and then I'd realized, No I didn't! I'd made twice that the last two nights in a row thanks to several bachelor parties that had come through…and today was Friday—I'd make triple that every night this weekend, easy!

Plus the salary the feds paid me.

"Actually Mom, what I'd really like is to grab a meatball sub from Pinos—If that's okay?" I hadn't been home in weeks, running out to eat somewhere else might be considered an offense.

"Of course it is," My mother crossed the kitchen to grab the keys for Big Blue off the hook by the back door. "Here," she handed them to me. "Could you pick up a fresh loaf of Italian bread while you're out?"

"Sure Mom," I should probably run by the Bond's office with a box of doughnuts and say hello to Connie and Lula too.

"And an Entenmann's coffee cake," She added.

"No problem, I'll be back later!" I grabbed my messenger bag off the counter and headed out to the garage where Uncle Sandor's big solid steel powder blue '53 Buick waited for me like a beached whale. It was obvious from the shine someone—my Dad obviously; had waxed and polished it, inside and out. I pulled open the garage door and climbed in, noting the fresh smell of leather conditioner, Armor All, and woodsy pine thanks to the little red Christmas tree dangling from the mirror. I guess without Grandma around to chase my Dad out to the lodge he really was spending more time tinkering not just around the house, but in the garage too.

Maybe that explained some of my Mom's good mood…maybe it was four months without the phone ringing thirty times a day with all the intimate details of my latest catastrophes. I sighed shrugging it off as I backed out of the garage and righted the Buick tank on to the street to head towards Pinos. Truth was I was enjoying not being the center of the betting pool, and the rumor mill too.

I pulled up into the Pino's parking lot and found a spot near the back of the lot…not that the parking lot was packed, it wasn't that crowded for the lunch hour (thank god) Even without a recent fiasco more than a few tongues would wag simply from my showing up for a sub sandwich…eating along to boot! Some things just don't change. I guess compared to PTA meetings, and ironing the wash what I ordered on my meatball sub was riveting. Just one of the many reasons I was from the 'Burg…but I'd never really been one of them.

I went inside and took a booth near the back, ordering a Coke and a meatball sub from a young girl I'd never seen before, she looked barely old enough to be working…but at least she didn't stare at me like I had two heads, guess she didn't know who I was! I settled back against the booth pulling the latest book out of my giant bag to keep me distracted while I waited, I'd gotten a few sideways looks and two very obvious cases of near-whiplash when I'd first walked in; there was no way I was going to risk inadvertently making eye contact and inviting someone over to pry into my life. Being that Pinos is in the heart of the Burg, and I'd been conspicuously absent from it for a while now I knew the gossip mongers must be salivating over any tidbit of information no matter how ridiculous or trivial. I also found, as I turned the third page in my book since I sat down that It was remarkably easy to not care after being gone for four months. Four months without rolling in garbage, crashing a car or getting into a screaming match with anyone.

"Hey Cupc…Steph."

 _Speak of the Devil._ I held back a sigh and looked up from my book to see none-other than Joseph Morelli standing next to my booth. He looked pretty much the same as he always did, just over 6 foot of lean muscled Italian male, he had on his signature washed out jeans, and a faded t-shirt. His badge and gun were absent from his belt so I guess he was off-duty. His hair was dark brown and looked like it was two weeks past the point of needing another haircut, his eyes were chocolate brown and his expression looked… _tentative._

 _Interesting._ "Hi Joe," I offered neutrally.

"Can I…sit down?" Joe asked conversationally motioning to the booth opposite me. "I'd like to talk to you…if that's alright, I mean." He drew in a deep breath. "I…you're not waiting for someone…" He glanced towards the door and I fought the urge to turn around and look too. But the one person I _really_ wanted to walk through it wouldn't be there…I wondered why it would matter to Joe if I was expecting company, it had never stopped him before.

"I mean if you're waiting for…Manoso." He paused, "maybe I can catch you another time…"

"Uh," I blinked completely thrown by this bizarre uncertain version of Joe. It was like an invasion of the body snatchers. I quick glance around the dinner showed me what I feared, most of the patrons were now paying far more attention to _our_ stilted exchange then their lunches…probably hoping we'd escalate into an epic screaming match. Typical.

"Steph?" Joe prompted quietly, shifting his weight.

"Uh, Yeah sorry, no um…It's just me. Have a seat." I watched Joe slide cautiously into the booth across from me, an odd expression on his face. It was making me really uncomfortable. I closed my book and pushed it to the side, fidgeting with the tasseled bookmark in my fingertips waiting for him to speak first.

"You, um. You look really good Steph."

"Thanks, you too." I really _, really_ hoped he was aiming for polite and wasn't trying to patch things up now that I was back in town. My stomach knotted with unease. "Joe I—"

"Steph I Just—"

"Sorry," We said in unison.

"Um, go ahead," I offered. _Could this get anymore awkward?_

Joe blew out a breath smiling and shaking his head "Probably not."

 _Oh, Guess I said that out loud._ I smiled.

"Listen Steph," He said my name disjointedly like he was having to actively think about saying it each time—like he was forcing the word out instead of calling me _Cupcake_. "I did a lot of thinking since you left—well before you left even. And I want to apologize." He shifted in the booth uncomfortably folding his hands on the tabletop and staring at them for a moment. "You were right." Joe almost sighed the words.

"It hurt, when I got your message and I was angry…but then the more I thought about what you said…the more I realized it was the truth. And I was really mad at myself. Things have been—had," he corrected himself, "they had been, well they'd been a mess."

"Yeah," I agreed softly.

Joe gave me a little half smile and drew in a deep breath to continue, "I just…I just spent so many years thinking this was _it_. I kept thinking, ' _this should be easier, why is this always such a struggle? Why are we always fighting?_ ' and I realized it's because we were _never_ on the same page." He cleared his throat. "I knew you didn't want to get married, and when you seemed like maybe you'd changed your mind instead of thinking _'_ _Great, we can finally do this_ ' I just felt like…" he grinned ruefully at me over the table, " _Oh shit, what are we doing?!"_

I let out a shaky laugh glad to see Joe chuckling himself.

"If I'd stopped to think about it for a minute I'd have realized that I was just treating this whole thing like a competition, like I had to prove something by changing you…and I wanted to say _I'm sorry_ ," he stared down at his hands again. "I was treating you like a trophy instead of a person. I was so busy trying to put you on a shelf and make you fit into this antiquated idea I'd had for years about a perfect family…the one I wanted when I was a kid and my Dad was a drunken asshole, and my brothers were in and out of Juvie…I should have stepped back and let you decide what you wanted. I didn't because I was just so convinced that if I could fit you into this perfect image I had in my head that you'd be happy…because I guess inside part of me at least is still that little kid, that just wants a happy family…anyway I'm just glad that you ended it for good, and even more so that you left because it made it real, but I wanted to say I'm sorry."

We stared at the table top for a full minute, neither of us speaking.

"Wow. I'm sorry too Joe. I feel like if I could have said something sooner we would have been happier, not wasted so much time."

"I don't know," Joe sighed. "I feel like we would have just continued to go back and forth and I, well I did a lot of thinking about what you said; about us having a lot of history—and about it not being good. That really got to me; Hell I was more upset by that comment then you saying it was over and I couldn't understand why, but I think I've figured out why it bothered me so much. I think it's because if we ended up together, then I could pretend it was no big deal the way I'd treated you when we were kids, and…right before I left. If we called it quits then I'm just the asshole that took advantage of you at six years old, and when you were fifteen."

I just stared at him, my lunch completely forgotten. There were times the whole Tasty Pastry thing had really bothered me too…but I mean it couldn't be that bad if I was dating the guy right? And the choo-choo thing when we were kids, I mostly tried to pretend it never happened.

"I think that's why I kept calling you Cupcake." Joe grimaced. "It was like, if I kept reminding us both about it, and no one started screaming, or freaking out then it was okay. And I didn't have to feel guilty about it."

I was floored. "Joe, we've both done terrible things—I ran you over with the Buick! You could have pressed charges and sent me to Jail!" _I was really lucky that my Dad had convinced Mrs. Morelli that it was an accident._

Joe winced. "Not exactly Steph."

I felt the color drain from my cheeks. "What do you mean?"

"I was going to press charges, I was pissed—and Mom and Grandma Bell; well they were enraged. My Mom had already filed the complaint when your Dad showed up at the hospital—I'm not sure how he found out so fast, I assume one of the guys at the station called him as a heads up…Anyway my Mother starts yelling at him how you were insane, and dangerous…"

I felt myself getting angry.

"And your Dad, I'll never forget it. He said; 'You Drop Those Charges Or I'll Be Filing My Own Against Your Son For Statutory Rape!'

 _OMIGOD!_ My mouth was hanging open. _How did I not know this—Any of This?!_ "It wasn't rape!" I whispered in disbelief. _I mean I hadn't exactly said yes—but I hadn't said no either…he hadn't given me a lot of time to react either way I realized._ My stomach twisted and I felt sick.

"I was 18 Steph, and you were barely 15…by what three-four whole months?"

 _Oh God._

"Even if you'd said yes—even if we were dating; which we weren't your Dad had a case. A damn solid one. The fact that I'd written about it myself…all over town; well it didn't look good."

"Oh my God!"

"Your Dad says, 'drop the charges against my daughter or your son will be in jail instead of the Navy,"

"Seriously how did I not know this?" I was dumbstruck, "I'm sorry Joe," I'd been mad at him sure, I was hurt; I'd felt betrayed. But I certainly hadn't wanted him thrown in jail!

"Don't be sorry Steph, It was a huge wake up call for me. I'd been running around like I was invincible. It made me realize that any one of a hundred really stupid things I'd done could have come back to bite me in the ass."

"But it didn't,"

"No," Joe shook his head. "But I've done some really, really stupid shit in my life Stephanie. And I'm sorry , for what it's worth now, 19 years later—I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I ran you over."

"Don't be," Joe grinned. "Probably the best damn thing that ever happened to me. I actually decided to become a cop after that night in the hospital—I felt so guilty thinking about the shitty things I'd done. The bar fights, and womanizing…I wanted to do something good with my life, something that would make a difference. I wanted to be a better person then my old man…not just another low-life Morelli."

We sat silently for a few moments when it hit me. "Oh My God! That's why your Mother and Grandmother hate me!"

Joe started laughing and I did too. "I always thought it was because of the car thing!" I added when we'd sobered slightly.

"No, your Dad warned me if I ever went near you again he could still press charges."

I was stunned. "We've been dating off and on forever!"

"I guess he decided if it was your choice, then it was okay." Joe shrugged. "I don't think he ever forgave me though."

"All this time, I just thought it was about you stealing his cookies!"

Joe snorted. "I'm sure it didn't help. Stephanie, did you…leave because of me?" he shifted again.

"No,"

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. "Oh good. I just…it was right after I started seeing Stacy and I should have told you; but it wasn't like that at first…She got a flat tire late one night coming home on the Turnpike and I stopped to help her change the tire…we went to High School together; and I didn't even recognize her. We just started talking…and something just clicked."

I wondered if he realized he was smiling. The waitress brought my sub and refilled my Coke before he started talking again.

"I saw her at the union softball game a week later—her oldest Jeffery had a soccer game at the same park and we ended up talking and getting ice cream and I gave her my number. I justified it by telling myself that you were always hanging out with Manoso and all those guys that work for him…and we weren't exactly on a break but we hadn't spoken to each other in two weeks. I didn't even know if I was going to call her; but then she called me. Her Ex was supposed to pick up her boys from school for the weekend and she was in Atlantic City for a teacher's Union weekend. Charlie—her Ex, was flying back in from business in Chicago but his job needed him to stay for another meeting…Her Mom was out of town and she was in a panic, and I was someone she sort of knew and a police officer." Joe chuckled suddenly and I could tell he was thinking about what happened. "Jeffery and Michael ran Bob into the ground!" he grinned, "Poor guy didn't know what hit him he slept for a week after they left!"

"At least he didn't eat their shoes." _I couldn't count the number of thongs I'd lost to the orange bottomless pit._

"Well…"

We both laughed.

"I guess that was when I first realized this must be what it's like for Ranger, when you call him and no matter what it is, or where he is he shows up." He mused. "You always called him Batman."

 _Yeah, I did._

"All the ulcers and worry…I'm not cut out to be Batman Steph; that's one of the reasons I wanted you to quit so bad. I couldn't do what he does. I'm not cut out for it." Joe added quietly. "But the way Stacy looks at me when I do something like fix the leaking sink, or pick up the boys when she's stuck in a parent teacher conference…"

"She makes you feel like a hero."

Joe stared at me in wonder as if it was only now occurring to him. "Yeah," he breathed softly.

"I think you make one hell of a Super Hero Joe, you just needed the right leading lady." I had to swipe tears from my eyes before they became too obvious. "You don't have to explain Joe, Really it's okay." I might have been mad months ago but I was over it I realized, I was over him…us, and it didn't bother me to hear him talk about someone else. I wondered briefly if he'd feel the same if I was talking about Ranger. "She makes you happy."

"She does,"

"I'm happy for you Joe." And I honestly meant it.

"Yeah, Good luck in New York Steph—I heard you're doing management for a big company."

 _Oh boy. Burg Gossip mill, hard at work!_ "Yeah, it's been great."

"Don't miss the explosions or garbage throwing?"

"Not one bit." I admitted truthfully with a smile.

"Okay, well I gotta run," Joe admitted pulling himself up from the bench seat to stand once more. "I'm taking a pizza over to Stacy's for a movie."

 _Oh Boy, I knew what that meant!_ If I'd had Lester's talents I'd have waggled my eyebrows at him.

"Dirty mind! The boys are watching it with us! Can you believe they've never seen the Sandlot?"

"I hope they like it, you should show them ghostbusters next."

"I'll ask Stacy, I guess I'll see you around Steph?"

I didn't stick around long after Joe left. My sub was long past cold, my appetite wasn't really tasting a sub anymore and I could feel everyone watching me still. Just waiting for me to break down into tears after my hushed conversation with Joe Morelli, I'm sure.

I pulled up in front of the Bond's office with my box of Boston Crème Doughnuts from the Tasty Pastry and climbed out of the car. Both Connie and Lula were inside hard at work filing their nails. Connie was the first to look up. "Vincent Plum Bail Bonds How can we….Oh MY God! Stephanie!?"

I set the box of doughnuts on Connie's desk smiling. "I'm visiting my parents, I finally got a weekend off and I wanted to come say hi."

Lula was staring at me from the couch and I suddenly realized that I hadn't spoken to Lula since the disastrous attempt to catch Tyronne Johnson what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hey Lula, I hope you're not mad at me about the gun, I uggh…Lula" I gasped patting her back, "I can..n't…breath…"

"Sorry!" She let me go so fast I almost fell backwards into Connie's desk. Connie was staring at us, mouth hanging open; speechless. "I'm sorry Steph! I saw the whole thing, that cop arresting you after you fell and I just panicked! I didn't know what to do so I just took off; and then no one saw you for weeks; and Connie said you took a job in New York…but I didn't know if that was true! I was so scared that you was in Lock up because of me, and No Batman to bail your ass out!"

Now I didn't know what to say. _Shit._ She had kind of gotten me into this mess, but then I hadn't been faultless by any means either. "It's okay Lula…"

"It's not okay!" She shot back huffing. "You've been better to me than my own momma! You saved my life, you got me a job, and friends…I have a life now I didn't even know was possible 'fore all this! And then instead of taking myself down to that station when I saw them grab you I just ran away! I was so scared they was gonna lock me up I didn't even think, and I'm sorry! I'm sorry Stephanie."

Wow. I struggled for something to say.

"You got busted on your last pick up?" Connie's stammered. How did Connie not know this? I guess Lula really hadn't told a soul and the 'Burg grapevine really didn't extend to the Newark police department.

 _They were both staring at me expectantly. Shit_. "Is Vinnie here?"

"No, he went to AC about an hour ago, Lucille wanted to spend the weekend at the beach."

"Plus I hear they opened this new petting zoo on the board walk." Lula added.

 _Ewww._ "Can we go to lunch?"

"Right now?" Connie asked eyebrow raised.

"Is that a problem?"

"Shit no. Not like Vinnie's going to be here to bond people out. I'll just forward calls to my cellphone." Connie pushed a button on her desk phone which made me think this wasn't the first time she'd been out of the office during work hours, in fact I knew it wasn't.

We all headed outside and by silent agreement piled into Connie's car, between the powder blue whale and Lula's bright red firebird it was the quietest and most inconspicuous ride available. Connie asked where I wanted to go and I suggested some place quiet, where we could talk without being overheard—and someplace outside of the Burg.

Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of a little place called Mario's Sub Shop. I'd never been here but Connie waved to the tall heavily Italian looking guy behind the counter and he nodded back silently looking like an extra from the Godfather.

"Relative?" I asked as we slid into the corner booth in the back.

"Family." The way Connie emphasized the word made the Capital F stand out. So maybe the Godfather look wasn't so much my imagination as an accurate portrayal.

Lula looked a little wide eyed and Connie rolled her eyes.

"What? You said discreet!"

 _Guess it doesn't get much more discreet then concrete shoes._ Lula looked like she was starting to sweat.

"Oh relax," Connie muttered at the same time the big burly guy from the back dropped off a pitcher of what could have been beer—but turned out to be raspberry tea, and three baskets of sliced fried pickles and roast beef sandwiches with slaw.

"Damn this is good!" Lula moaned after the first bite, "If I wasn't so worried about avoiding any sorta family entanglements I'd eat here on the regular."

"So, What's going on Steph?" Connie interjected ignoring Lula's commentary, I found that some of the appetite I'd lost from earlier after my conversation with Joe had returned so I popped a few pickles into my mouth and then started talking.

"Okay, but this has to remain between us. Remember Anton Ward?"

Connie nodded, and Lula paled. A while back I'd been targeted by a gang called the Slayers, it had mostly been a nuisance and mildly frightening until they'd actually put a hit out on my life. Connie, Lula and I had kidnapped one of them trying to get information…of course since he was a gang member he wasn't exactly a chatty Cathy and we'd ended up needing to enlist Ranger's help to get him to talk…but neither Connie or Lula had ever breathed a word of our foray into kidnapping and torture to a single soul…I know because if they had Everybody including my mother would have known in a day.

"This has to stay completely between us, or my life will be over."

Lula swallowed, and Connie looked appropriately grim-faced. So I started to tell them what happened the day we were chasing Tyrone Johnson—I told them everything, the charges, the deal—the victims, and the real job in New York. When I was done Connie was speechless and Lula was staring at the linoleum tabletop.

"Steph, I'm so sorry…this all my fault."

"No it isn't Lula, and it's probably a good thing it was me carrying the gun and not you."

"How so?" Lula questioned

"If it been you they probably would have locked you up and thrown away the key," Connie interjected.

"Huhn, you don't think I could catch a killer?"

"I think you don't look like a blue eyed white girl." Connie shot back rolling her eyes.

"Huhn." Lula mulled that over. "So what's going on now, why you here if this psycho is still out there?"

"Because the psycho murdered a girl I work with."

"What?!"

"Yeah, and her girlfriend."

"How do you know it was him?" Lula said. "You think there's only one brand of crazy in a city like New York, Cause White Girl, there's _all_ kinds of crazy in a city that size."

"Pretty sure it was him, plus Yvonne's girlfriend looked just like me."

"You saw her?" Connie asked.

"I knew her, and….I found the bodies." I whispered quietly.

"Shit White Girl, I'm so sorry."

"Damn, I'm sorry Steph."

"So, What…you quit? Is that what this is?" Lula asked suddenly. "Cause I know you, and you don't quit. "'Specially when people's lives are on the line, that ain't you."

I stared at her dumbfounded, I hadn't realized how much of me wanted to quit until she said something. I wanted so badly to just slide into denial land, or hide out at my mothers and call Davis and say the deal was off—I'd just get a good lawyer and take my chances…better jail then dead, right?

"You're Stephanie-Fucking-Plum, you hear me?" Lula continued. "And you don't quit,"

"She's right," Connie continued. "You don't."

"Damn right she don't! You get your ass back to New York and you shake the hell outta your ass until you find this guy! Sounds to me like those idiot cops ain't got much else going for them 'sides you."

 _That's what scared me the most_.

* * *

 **to be continued...**

.

So, a little reunion of sorts with Joe, and Lula apologizes for leaving Steph strained in another mess! Thoughts?

and When's Ranger gonna show back up? ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

 **Notes:** Short but fun chapter to write! haha!

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

We pulled up to the bond's office roughly an hour and a half later. Lula was telling me the story of her last attempt to bring in Mooner without me and I was laughing along with Connie—apparently Lula had shown up when the Moon Man had been out of his favorite kind of leafy green, if you know what I mean. He'd been cranky and sour and slammed the door in Lula's face…so she'd thrown a brick through his front window…the brick had knocked over an end table and revealed some hidden goods Mooner and Dougie had forgotten about in their near-permanent stupor.

An hour later no one cared about the broken window and they'd ordered take-out for the _I dream of Jeanie_ marathon.

Connie had just started to Park when Lula let out a squeak and went silent and Connie cursed out loud.

"What?" I turned my head expecting to see Vinnie, or some other reason for the disturbance and spotted the black Porsche parked at the curb. As Connie parked Ranger slid out of the driver seat and circled the vehicle to lean against the side. He looked as unhappy as he had last night, maybe even more so.

 _Well, Fuck._

"Does Batman know about _you know what_?" Lula stage whispered between the seats out of one side of her mouth.

"No."

"Shit."

"You better figure out what to tell him," Connie informed me, "because he does _Not_ look happy."

 _No. He definitely didn't_.

"Why does it have to be about me, maybe he's just having a bad day." I pointed out.

Connie snorted and Lula shook her head. "White girl, Batman don't have bad days."

She was right, Ranger was Perfect. Unless I got him shot that is.

"Yeah, I hate to say it Steph but the only time Ranger looks like that is when you're involved."

"Thanks." I shot out sarcastically. I'd be more offended if she wasn't right. Ranger's life would be perfect if it wasn't for my constant screw ups. If he found out about the mess I was in this time he'd probably lock me up and throw away the key—or worse, write me off completely. My stomach churned with acid at the thought. I had a feeling there was a limit to how much Entertainment even Ranger's nerves of steel could take.

Sighing heavily I hauled myself out of the car shutting the door behind me and waving to Connie over the hood. "Thanks for lunch."

"Good luck." She mouthed silently.

I didn't think luck was going to help.

"We gonna see you before you leave?" Lula asked eyes cutting nervously towards Ranger.

"I hope so."

Behind us Ranger cleared his throat pointedly and Lula took off after Connie through the Bond's office door like a quail at a gun shot.

I turned to face him, hiking my messenger bag up onto my shoulder and clenching the strap in one fist trying to keep my hands still. His posture looked deceptively relaxed, his face gave away nothing.

"Ranger."

"Stephanie."

 _Uh oh._

Ranger raised one arm and crooked a finger at me. _Come here._ Butterflies filled my stomach and I stupidly shook my head _No_ and wondered if I could get into the Buick and get the door locks engaged before he could grab me. Ranger sighed, and pushed off the car striding towards me the look on his face made me want to run, the gleam in his eye told me clearly, I wouldn't make it far.

Ranger stopped right in front of me, almost touching. He said nothing for almost a full minute, long enough for me to start to squirm feeling like a bug under a microscope. "What?" I finally snapped unable to take it any longer.

He just kept looking at me then he pulled in a deep breath. "Are you eating?"

I blinked at him completely stupefied by the question. _What?_

Ranger's hand came up, one finger hooked in the front pocket of my jeans he gave a tug clearly pointing out the loose fit, the lines of his frown deepening when the cinch in my belt became visible.

 _So I hadn't been shopping in a while, big deal! Ranger was always pushing me to work out and eat healthy! I finally pick up one of those habits and now he's upset about it?_

Ranger's expression darkened further. "I heard you were at Pino's earlier today,"

"…I was…" _was this about my conversation with Joe? Was Ranger Mad about Joe? Did he think we were getting back together…wait, why would Ranger care?_

"Echo was there, said you didn't eat anything."

"Echo?" I asked feeling a little silly considering the name.

"New guy," Ranger said. "He said you threw your whole lunch away."

I didn't see anyone from Rangeman there…but then I'd been trying to avoid looking at anybody. Ranger seemed to be waiting for an explanation. "It got cold."

Ranger's eyes narrowed. "There's doughnuts in the office."

"Yeah," I'd brought them for Connie and Lula when Lula had had her little outburst we'd all been distracted…

"You didn't eat any of them." Ranger pointed out.

I parked both my hands on my admittedly slimmer hips staring up at him, "No, I didn't. Wait, shouldn't you be happy? Mr. Twigs and tree bark, and _eat a Salad babe, that stuff will kill you babe_ ," I repeated in a mockery of his lower tone.

Ranger huffed and wrapped one hand around my forearm tugging me towards his car, "Hey!"

Ranger said nothing.

"Ranger!"

He took three quick steps twisting me and suddenly my butt was against the door of the Porsche and Ranger was standing Really close.

Really, _Really_ close.

My hormones did the mamba, and my brain went to white noise…wait, he was still talking.

"…And then I find out from Tank that you're _Out_ with him, on a _Date_!" He growled.

"What?" I'm so eloquent.

Ranger's eyes cast heaven word for a moment and he muttered something in Spanish that didn't sound complimentary. "I get back and Tank informs me there's a guy who's been hanging around your apartment, he's sent you notes, and flowers and even driven by your parent's house and the bonds office and you're nowhere to be found."

Wait, was he talking about Alex? "He drives by the Bonds office?" I asked dumbfounded.

"And then I get a report that you're in town after being gone for weeks! I swing by your Parent's house and your mother tells me you're on a date! But not with Morelli, some other guy your Mother can only identify as Blonde! And a Nice guy! I had the control room pull up this guy's vehicle tracker and he's at the same restaurant!"

"You thought he was there to kidnap me? Wait! Why the Hell are you tracking his car?"

A muscle in Ranger's jaw was ticking. "He was a concern. I didn't think you were going to be dating him." He shot back.

"Dinner."

"What?"

"Not dating, we went to one meal Ranger _," I hadn't even gotten dessert. It's not a Date without_ _dessert, at least in my book._

Ranger growled, "Is that some kind of Metaphor? Because it's not funny _Stephanie."_

I just stared at his chest, trying to understand where the rumbling growl was coming from. I've never heard Ranger make _That_ sound before. It was…well It was kinda hot. _Really_ hot.

Ranger growled something in Spanish, then opened the car door with a jerk. "Get in the Car," he ordered and my metaphorical hackles went up instantly.

"What! _Why_?!"

Ranger moved into my space growling again and I leaned back so far my head was almost touching the hood, he loomed over me, hands on either side of my hips pinning me against the car's frame. "We have some _things_ to discuss."

"And we can't talk about them here?" His mouth was so close I could just tilt my head up and kiss him… _no Stephanie, bad idea!_

"No," Ranger informed me, pushing me down firmly but gently into the open doorway and watching me while I slide my legs in under his threatening glare. "We can't."

* * *

 **to be continued...**

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Geeze, what's his problem? ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer** Not Mine!

 **Notes:** Thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

This chapter was fun and frustrating to write! I felt like I had to toe the line

between justified assholery (is that a word? lol) and straight up asshole!

Let me know if I pulled it off! :)

.

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Ranger was ignoring me. Well, not really ignoring me; Ranger just wanted to talk about what Ranger wanted to talk about and he would not be distracted or deterred.

His mood had only gotten worse since arriving at Haywood.

I'd stupidly allowed him to get me into the car earlier. Then like an _idiot_ when we arrived at Rangeman I'd let him escort me up to Seven without a fight. I hadn't realized until we'd walked through the front door that my suitcase was on the floor next to the sideboard table in the foyer. I knew right away what that meant, Lock down.

I'd ask how the Hell he got it from my parent's house but he's Batman, he walks through locked doors and when he gives commands people jump to follow them.

Well not this chick!

I'd told him I wasn't staying here and his only response had been to ask me what was going on and where I had been staying for the last four months. Since I couldn't tell him without ending up on permanent lock down for the rest of my life I stuck with my cover story. Unfortunately unlike my family, Tank and everyone else; Ranger wasn't buying it.

"Okay well this has been fun, but I'm leaving now." I pulled myself up from the office chair facing his private desk. He hadn't said anything for fifteen minutes, clearly there was no point in staying.

"Not until you tell me what's going on." He replied back not even looking up from his desk.

"Nothing is going on! I got a new job. I moved. It happens."

"Three years at the same job and you up and quit with no warning." Ranger was staring at me now, frowning and eyes narrowed accusingly.

"People do it all the time!"

"And your sudden move had nothing to do with Morelli dating someone else?"

 _What?_ _Where the fuck had that come from?_ If I didn't know better I'd call that tone Bitter! What the Fuck? "No! Joe had nothing to do with this! It just happened!"

Ranger stared at me mouth pursed into a hard line. That muscle in his jaw was ticking again. "You're lying to me,"

I wanted to punch him, or throw his stapler at his head. "You have Trust issues, do you know that?"

"I have trust issues." Ranger repeated.

"Yes, You do."

"What's the name of your company? Why is there no record of a Stephanie Plum at **_any_** of the Fortune 500 companies, textile and processing plants in New York?"

My mouth fell open and I sputtered. "You must have missed it! You can't look through the records of _Every_ company in New York! Don't be ridiculous!"

One eyebrow hiked north. "I didn't _have_ to. You have to file a W-2 when you start legally working somewhere Stephanie, and there's _No_ W-2 for a Stephanie Plum on file with the State of New York, or the IRS."

"You Hacked the IRS?!"

"I called in a favor."

"For my Taxes? They're right, You're Fucking unhinged you know that!?" My story was falling apart, because of course Ranger wouldn't leave it alone! _Can't trust Stephanie Fuck Up Plum to cross the street let alone find a new job!_ _No one ever gave me credit for anything except finding trouble! Not Joe, Not my Mom! And now Ranger!_ _T_ he fact that I was actually wrapped up in a catastrophe of epic proportions only made it sting worse, made me want to dig in my stubborn heels and fight him all the way.

 _I never claimed to be mature._

"Tank couldn't find you, I couldn't find you. There's no forwarding address, your cellphone was off…"

"I dropped it in the subway!" I shot back. "It broke! I got a new one!"

"You've been gone for four months, you couldn't update Tank on your new cellphone number and Address?!"

"I'm not a Bounty Hunter Anymore! Tank is **_Not_** my Keeper! I'm an Adult I don't have to get your approval for everything I do!"

"You're right, you usually don't," Ranger said.

"What the fuck is **_that_** supposed to mean?" I snarled "You know what, I don't even want to know! It's been fun, but do me a favor and fuck off!" I stomped back out of the office and towards the front door. He didn't follow me.

"I'm going home," I threw over my shoulder wrenching the front door open. I was two steps out the door when I realized I didn't have my suitcase. _Fuck_. _Oh well, I needed new clothes anyway, He could keep them!_ Mall therapy sounded really good right now. It was either shop til I passed out or punch Ranger in the mouth.

Probably the second one would get me a one way ticket to Uzbekistan.

I mashed the button beside the elevator doors and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at the numbered lights indicated at the top of the doors, it was firmly fixed on Five and as I watched it changed to One, then returned to Five again.

I growled and moved to the stairwell door nearly knocking my head against it and stumbling backwards when I ran into it went nowhere.

I shoved the handle with my hip. Locked.

"Mother Fucker!" Now I was _really_ mad!

I was back across the tiled hallway and inside Ranger's apartment in a second glaring at him over the desk. "You unlock that door right now!"

His eyes moved from the screen in front of him to my face. His expression didn't change. "No."

"What do you mean, No?" How could he be so calm My blood was on boil, my face was red I was breathing like I'd run a mile instead of twenty feet.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is really going on and the current threat is assessed and properly handled."

"Current Threat? _What_ Threat?! There is no Threat!" I yelled.

Ranger grabbed the computer screen and swiveled it towards me, Alex's face was on it—though a much younger version. "His juvie record says differently."

"His juvie record." I repeated dubiously. Ranger just kept staring at me, no trace of humor. "His Juvie Record." I enunciated the words this time.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" he growled.

"For Fucksa….Hey Pot, this is Kettle Calling!" I snapped miming a phone with my hand and Ranger's eyes narrowed to angry slits.

"Not the same thing." He said.

"Not the same….It's EXACTLY the SAME THING!" I screamed, "And you know what else?! It's none of your God Damn business! Maybe You should stop Stalking Me!"

Ranger's nostrils flared and his eyes went flat black.

 _Danger! Danger!_ Part of my brain was screaming, but I was on a roll now; Self-preservation be Damned! I was going to Let Him Have It! "Did I ask you to investigate the childhood of guy I've been on _One_ date with?! You've been gone for what Five months? You know what, You leave all the Damn Time; You don't get to just waltz back into town and take over my life when you feel like it! I'm Not your personal property Dickhead!"

"Just answer the question Stephanie! Where have you been? If there's no problem just tell me where you've been and explain why there's absolutely No record of you working in New York, or ANYWHERE for that matter."

"I don't have to explain myself to you! I called Tank I told him I was leaving—and I'm here now, Look! I'm Fine! There's no Problem!"

"If there's no problem why won't you tell me where you've been?"

"Because it doesn't concern you! Why won't you just Drop this?! Jesus!"

Ranger's eyes narrowed. "You've lost weight Stephanie, your clothes barely fit—there's dark circles under your eyes. I tried to contact you on your phone and it was disconnected, No one knows where you live, not you're eating, your parents have no forwarding address for you in New York beyond a PO Box… What the Fuck is going on?"

"Nothing Is going on!"

"Tell me the truth or I'm going to have Bobby come up here right now and give you a drug test." His voice was like cold steel.

"A drug test?! So What, Now You think I'm on Drugs?!"

"It would explain the weight loss, and lack of sleep." Ranger Snarled.

"So would a gym membership and busting my ass long hours at a job!"

"A job there's no record of!"

"I have a job!"

"So you're refusing to take the test."

"You know what!? Fucking bring it asshole! I'm not taking drugs! I'm working in New York and I have nothing to hide!"

"Don't Lie to me!" He shot back slapping his hands on top of the desk and jerking up from his chair.

"That's it! I'm calling my Dad," I stormed back out of the office and into the foyer spewing a litany of unflattering words about his anatomy and parentage grabbing my bag off the sideboard and digging through it. I could see Ranger leaning against the wall arms crossed in my peripheral vision having followed me out off the office this time.

"Where the Fuck is my Phone?" I snapped dropping my bag onto the floor with a muffled crack.

"It's disconnected." Ranger said.

"No." I bit out. "It isn't, it was right here, In my bag" I gestured with my hand furiously, "and I want it back Now!"

Ranger just stared at me.

I stormed past him and into the kitchen lifting the phone off the receiver and punching in my parent's house number furiously. Ranger just watched impassively. Punching him was sounding like a better and better idea in my head!

"Rangeman Trenton, how my I direct your call?"

I think steam was coming out my ears. "I'm trying to dial an outside line." I snarled back.

"I'm sorry Ma'am but all calls from the penthouse are currently being restricted to in house. We're currently on lockdown."

"Currently being restrict….You…you Asshole!" The phone was out of my hand before I'd fully processed the thought, luckily Ranger ducked and it shattered against the living room wall instead of his face. In hindsight that might have been a bad thing.

"You open that Fucking door and let me leave Right Now Manoso!"

"Not until you stop lying to me!" He snarled back slapping the flat of his hand against the wall hard enough to rattle the framed art in the next room. "And _Don't_ Call me Manoso!"

"I'm not lying to you!" I screamed back. "What do you think this is, some kind of fucking intervention?! You know what? Get Bobby Up here Right now! And the cops! And when that test comes back negative I'm pressing charges for kidnapping and wrongful detainment!"

Ranger's pocket started ringing. He pulled out his cellphone and answered it voice perfectly calm if a little forced still glaring daggers at me. "No, everything here is fine. When? I'll be right down." He hung up and put it back in his pocket. "That was the control room."

"Calling to make sure you weren't murdered by your druggy girlfriend?" I snapped sarcastically crossing my arms over my chest to keep from closing my fingers around his neck and strangling him.

"No, there was a cyber security breach and an attempted break in at one of our clients. I need to go."

"Like Hell!" I stormed after him into the bedroom watching him slip on his tactical belt with all its toys. "I'm not staying here!"

"Ella will make you dinner," Ranger continued pulling on his Kevlar vest clearly ignoring my outburst. "You eat it, and let Bobby come up and do a physical and when I get back we'll talk about it again."

"So now I'm a druggy and anorexic?! _Fuck You_ Manoso."

His head snapped up, eyes flashed black and his tone was deadly. " _Don't_ Call me _Manoso_ , Stephanie. _Don't_. Do it."

My body hit the wall and I didn't even remember backing away from him. Ranger stared down at me for almost a full minute eyes glittering black, his body so close I could barely breathe, my stomach gave a little flip of excitement, _traitor_.

"Don't throw things at Bobby when he comes up," He finally said, his tone quieter. "He's just doing his job." He pressed his lips to my forehead for a split second and moved away before I could react. "I'll take the lock of the elevator and stairwell, but you stay in the building."

Then he was gone like smoke.

 _Fucking Jerk_.

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* * *

To be continued...

.

 **I mean, what else was Ranger supposed to think? ; )**

 **Think when he learns the truth he'll handle it any better? LOL**

 **Yeah, me neither! HAHAHA!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** If you recognize the name, they're not mine!

 **Notes:** _Thank you guys! over 140 reviews!_

 _Every single one of those responses is an honor to receive!_

 _Now on with the program, cause really that's what you're here for right? ;)_

 _._

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

The intercom button on the phone base in Ranger's kitchen was flashing furiously. The base was emitting a low ringing tone and had been for the last ten minutes, but since the phone was smashed beyond repair and now most of the pieces were in the trashcan I didn't know how to answer it.

I wasn't sure I wanted to answer it either.

It stopped flashing finally and there was a knock on the door at almost the same moment. I sighed trying to decide if it was worth it to get up or if I should just wait until they came in—I highly doubted whoever it was would just go away. Probably if I didn't answer some kind of 'High Alert' would be triggered and they'd kick down the door, even if I locked it.

The door opened slowly and Ella's voice drifted inside from the crack. "Stephanie? Can I come in?"

Ella. I might be pissed as Hell at Ranger, but I loved Ella like a second Mom. I don't think I could be mad at Ella if I tried.

"Come in Ella!" I stayed on the couch waiting for her to come inside. She bustled in with a rolling cart covered with several shiny metal trays and smiled when she saw me on the couch.

"It's so good to see you Stephanie! We missed you around here!"

 _I'll bet, no fleet cars blown up, no people getting shot. I was a one women hurricane and a laugh a minute._

"Thanks Ella, it's good to see you too."

Ella started setting dishes at the table, uncovering them as she went and sending tantalizing smells wafting through the apartment. My mouth started to water even though I hadn't been hungry five minutes ago. Ella is a Gifted Goddess in the kitchen, she's an even better cook then my Mother—not that I'd ever admit that in front of her!

"How are you doing dear? I hear you've got some fancy job in New York?"

Somehow lying to Ella felt worse than lying to my mother and Ranger combined, maybe because Ella had never pushed me for anything—she was always the same caring sweet lady no matter what the crisis. It was probably why Ranger hired her, considering he ate twigs and bark it couldn't be the fabulous cooking!

"Uh, yeah it's keeping me busy." I tried to smile but must have failed miserably because Ella rushed over to the couch and wrapped me up in a hug.

"What's the matter Dear?"

"Ranger!" I blurted out suddenly fighting tears, _So much for remaining stoic._

"Oh, they'll be just fine." Ella soothed, smoothing back my probably rat's nest curls. "Don't you worry about them, the entire core team went except for Bobby. I'm sure it's nothing they can't handle!"

I sighed and dropped my face into my hands feeling even worse now. Ella thought I was upset because Ranger was gone and might get shot at while he was out there. In reality the thought hadn't even crossed my mind despite seeing him leave in full tactical gear in a flak vest. There was no way I was going to explain that I was upset because Ranger was being a giant Dick who thought I was on drugs…and starving myself apparently.

"How about some supper?" Ella offered gently squeezing my hand.

"Sure," I'd only eaten with Connie and Lula about two hours ago but what the Hell. If I turned down the food Ranger would probably use it as an excuse to launch a full scale intervention. I didn't know what that might look like, but I was positive I did _Not_ want to see it.

"Goodness!" Ella clucked looking startled when I stood up. Okay, I guess it wasn't just Ranger. She recovered quickly inspecting my jeans with a thoughtful frown. "These need altering Dear, Leave them on the hamper and I'll put a few darts in the back."

I looked down at my jeans, they really were awful loose. The thighs and pockets over my slender hips made them look downright baggy. I hadn't worn pants this boxy since high school when I went through my skater phase—which was an embarrassment I'd rather not think about, the photos in my mother's picture albums were bad enough! No wonder Ranger had a cow. They practically swallowed me. I looked like I was wearing somebody else's clothes.

"Don't bother," I sighed suddenly eager to just get rid of them. "These are really old, and I haven't worn them in months." Which was true. I didn't wear jeans on a daily basis like I used to bounty hunting, this was probably one of my oldest pair—it had somehow survived having the knees ripped out which was usually the fate of my skip chasing work wear.

Most days I wore workout clothes to the gym and then at night my work clothes—which were definitely not Trenton appropriate without my mother's head exploding. I spent so much time in tight fitting shorts and halter style tops or sports bras the thought of putting on tight jeans that restricted my movement and squeezed me in had no appeal—especially in the begging when I'd struggled with pole burn on a daily basis. Chaffed skin and the rough material of even broken in jeans is a mistake you only make once!

These jeans had been in the bottom of a pile of clean clothes and I'd thrown them in my suitcase not even thinking about the last time I'd worn them, or whether or not they would fit. I had just been trying to get to the train station on time and avoid a trip to the laundry mat. I'd pulled them on this morning and then had to borrow one of my mother's belts to keep them up. I'd almost put on the pair of Yoga pants I'd worn on the train the day before but they were missing from my basket—probably already in my mother's wash. Besides jeans just felt more like Stephanie Plum, even ill fitted ones. Usually I couldn't get them buttoned not couldn't keep them up!

I could see now looking at them now, maybe under Ella's calming influence how Ranger might have been concerned. It was also a little mortifying to consider that the last time he saw me these jeans had been snug—not just fitted, more like I shouldn't eat for a week if I wanted to keep buttoning them snug. Old Stephanie, and New Stephanie was probably pretty shocking from his point of view. For me it had been so gradual, and I'd been so stressed out and busy that I hadn't noticed most of it—Hell I still about gave myself whiplash when I caught sight of myself in the mirror and realized that hard body was me! For Ranger the change must have felt like it took place over night—even if it had been several months.

Maybe I should cut him some slack—If he wasn't being such a Grade A Jerk!

"Well, We'll have to get you something in the right size then!" Ella fused tugging at the back pocket of my jeans—checking the size probably and doing complicated sizing calculations in her head. "An Eight? No, these simply won't do!" She clucked to herself fusing with the waist, maybe trying to see how much slack the belt was taking up.

I had a feeling new pants would show up before the night was through, probably with _Rangeman_ embroidered on the ass pockets. Ranger would just _Love_ that, after the underwear ordeal I was pretty sure she was doing it to egg him on for some stupid reason.

"Whatever you feel is best," I tried not to sigh, it wasn't that I didn't appreciate Ella trying to help me out—it just shouldn't be necessary if Ranger would let me leave and butt out! She did have amazing taste in clothes, and often bought things I would never spend the money on for myself, so I wasn't going to fight her on it. I might be stuck here until Ranger got his head out of his ass—however long that might take.

Dinner turned out to be Alfredo corkscrew pasta with broccoli and a delicate white fish breaded and lightly sprinkled with cheese. I ate half of it before my stomach felt like it was going to explode. There was chocolate pudding that I put into the fridge for later, there was no way I was going to eat it now without being sick, and vomiting up anything Ella made would be a crime against nature.

Ella came out of the bedroom as I was leaving the pudding in the fridge. It occurred to me I'd never left food on my plate when Ella was cooking—or turned down a dessert she'd made. I sincerely hoped she wasn't offended, I just couldn't eat another bite without embarrassing myself.

"Everything alright Dear?"

"Yeah, just really heavy. I had lunch just a while ago and I can't eat another bite. It was very good though."

Ella smiled and covered the rest of my dinner with a plastic cover which she slid into the fridge 'just in case I got hungry again later.'

I didn't think that would be a problem. Truthfully everything was sitting in my stomach like a rock; which was seriously unusual for an Ella prepared meal—even her heavy cream sauces were light and sat well compared to the same dishes when my mother cooked them. I'd always secretly suspected the difference was Ella altering the recipes to be slightly healthier but never asked afraid that confirming the presence of twigs and bark in my food would somehow alter the taste. What I really felt like was a nice long nap, but that would mean laying down in Ranger's bed, and after the fight earlier I wasn't sure that was a good idea.

Ella was just swapping out the towels with some fresh ones from the bottom of the cart and I was stretched out on the sofa closing my eyes when there was a subtle knock at the door.

"I'll get that Dear," Ella offered and I heard her bustle to the front door and open it. "Oh, Hello Bobby."

 _Great._ I was sort of hoping Ranger was kidding and this was some sort of sick joke _. I guess not._ This was really happening. I felt sick at the sudden reminder and took several slow deep breaths, it wouldn't do to vomit up Ella's fantastic dinner—even if I got it all over Ranger's white carpet, not only would the loss of food be tragic Ranger would probably accuse me of Bulimia. I opened my eyes and sat up staring at Bobby as he walked towards me with a small black bag in his hand.

"Hi Bomber, How are you feeling?"

I rolled my eyes. "Cut the shit Bobby get this over with and get out." I snapped feeling betrayed and angry all over again. Bobby was supposed to be my friend, instead he was keeping me prisoner because Ranger said so, _Heaven forbid anyone upset the Great Manoso,_ I seethed scornfully glaring at him.

Bobby stopped short and somewhere over my shoulder I realized Ella had frozen with a gasp. _Great_. Now I was upsetting Ella. I wondered if that's why she was still in the apartment; if Ranger was secretly using her presence to try to get me to cooperate. My eyes narrowed still watching Bobby and he shifted almost nervously. Ranger _would_ do something like that he was an ' _outcome engineer'_ as he frequently pointed out.

"Would you prefer someone else do this Steph?" Bobby asked gently. It was a sobering slap to the face.

Great, _Steph_ not _Bomber_ , or Bombshell…

 _Stephanie, not Babe._

 _He hadn't called me Babe, not even once._

I'd been too incensed to notice before but it was glaringly obvious now I realized fighting to ignore the burning in my eyes and the sudden lump lodged in my throat.

 _God that hurt._

It shouldn't but it did, like a knife to the gut. It felt impersonal and cold, which was _ridiculous_ because it was my _Name_! I blinked away hot tears and shoved my sleeve up thrusting my arm out at him. "Whatever just do it, and when it comes back clean I want you to shove the results straight up Manoso's ass." _Angry was safe, just stay angry Steph. Don't cry now, keep it together!_

Bobby moved to sit on the coffee table in front of me and opened up his black bag slowly like I might bolt away from any sudden movements, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He paused for a moment considering my sleeve, he drew in a deep breath and added quietly. "Do you have anything on under this Steph?"

"The sweater?"

He nodded.

I had a camisole with a built in bra so I pulled the sweater off over my head and dropped it onto the couch cushion beside me. Bobby sucked in a deep breath and blinked.

"What?" I snapped, I'd been certain he was really asking for me to remove the sweater so he could subtly check for needle or track marks, since I Certainly didn't have any of those I felt my eye start to twitch in annoyance at his reaction.

"Jesus Steph," He gaped after a moment, "when did you get Ripped?!"

 _Huh?_ I turned my head to see my own arm and actually noticed the definition standing out in my shoulder, my bicep hell even my forearm—Not that my arm had been fat before, it just had been a regular old arm; skinny and maybe even a tiny bit flabby underneath if I was completely honest with myself. Now my arms were jiggle free and toned. They looked like arms that belonged on one of those fitness models on magazine covers that advertised ab exercises and bikini body moves. They certainly didn't look like they belonged to me.

I was struck with a wave of pride and awe noting Bobby's reaction that they did.

I shrugged and Bobby blinked.

"How long have you been working out?" He finally asked.

"Since I moved." Which was true, running after the occasional skip didn't really count.

"Doing what?"

"Cross training, some barre and dance classes." I just wasn't about to tell him what _Kind_ of dance classes.

Bobby shook his head and swallowed looking a little out of sorts. "Can I take your Blood Pressure?" He had to clear his throat when he said it, his voice was kinda off. Bobby lifted a cuff out of his bag and I offered him my arm wordlessly, certain he wouldn't leave until this was done. He wrapped the cuff around my arm, just above my elbow and placed a stethoscope in his ears, all business again, holding it against my skin and pumping up the band til it was squeezing me enough to actually hurt. I gritted my teeth and kept staring at the wall, not wanting to show any discomfort over something as stupid as a blood pressure cuff. He let the pressure out slowly and it seemed to take a really long time before he finally let it out all the way and pulled the stethoscope from his ears.

He looked a little surprised.

"Problem?"

"Uh, No! You're Blood Pressure; Well you're blood pressure is fantastic maybe a little low but since you've been working out for four months and your just sitting here I don't think that's a bad thing. It's really healthy."

"So can we skip the rest of this bullshit?"

Bobby looked conflicted and wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Let me guess, you'd like to but you're afraid Ranger will shit a brick?"

"Yeah," Bobby blew out a breath, "Pretty much."

"Fine, Whatever just do what you have to then Bobby. Whatever it takes to get out of this fucking building."

"Steph," Ella said quietly from behind us.

"No!" I snapped a wash with outrage again. "I'm sorry Ella but this isn't right!" I snapped my eyes back to Bobby. "Ranger just gets to lay down the law and everyone jumps at his command! He's a tyrant! He has no authority to keep me locked up like this! Like some criminal!"

"Look Steph, I know you're upset—"

"Upset?! Upset Bobby?! He's lucky I don't have a gun!"

Bobby held his hands up pleadingly, "Don't shoot the messenger,"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Look, Ranger doesn't handle the unexpected very well," Bobby pointed out.

"Gee that explains why he just _loves_ having me around." I bit out sarcastically rolling my eyes. "Maybe Mr. Tightass should consider a new profession!"

Bobby sighed. "Bombshell, Ranger's got a plan—for everything, he's got procedures and protocols and pages and pages of SOP for every contingency! He left the army but he still lives his daily life like an elite soldier in combat, right down to when he gets up, and what he eats—it's like clockwork. Hell the yearly fitness eval for Rangeman is the Ranger's Qual Test right to the letter!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my glare. "Yes, _Thank you_ Bobby. I'm well aware he's got a stick firmly wedged up his ass." I'd been dealing with his particular brand of insanity for three years. _It didn't really matter to me that the stick was labeled 'The Best, of the Best' and his training had saved me multiple times in the past, I was pissed off, it was still a stick, and he was still an asshole._

"My point is, you throw him for a loop! You tie him up in knots and make him throw all of his plans, and procedures, and carefully constructed rules right out the window without batting an eye!

"I'm not trying to!" I shout back.

"No!" Bobby sighed and put his hand on my knee squeezing my leg to keep me still when I tried to jerk away. "No," he tried again quieter. "Steph listen to me. Ranger is a pig headed egotistical jerk."

"Okay…." I rolled my hand in a 'go on…' gesture.

"But he's a pig headed egotistical jerk that's in love with you and doesn't have the first dam clue what he's doing! For the first time in his life there's no manual, no guidelines, no plan of attack…Hell I don't know what the Fuck went on up here before that call came in earlier tonight but he was so worked up and unfocused when he came down stairs I almost pulled Rank and stopped him from going out of the building!"

I gapped. This was news to me. He'd looked cool as a cucumber and completely unruffled when he breezed out of here, but I hadn't been in the right frame of mind to be particularly observant either.

"Wait, You can pull rank on Ranger?" I didn't think anyone could top Ranger…

"Only on health issues, I'm the company medic—And I've been patching up that loser for way longer then he'd care to admit!"

"So, can't you tell him he's being an asshat?" I hedged hoping for some sort of ally.

Bobby grinned at me and slapped my knee gently. "Bomber, I take great pleasure in informing him he's got Shit for Brains on a daily basis—Especially when it comes to you. It just doesn't do any good."

I sighed and flopped back against the cushions in defeat.

"So what else do you need to do?" I asked the ceiling dejectedly.

"I need to take some blood, but first let's talk about your caloric intake."

"I'm not starving myself if that's what you're asking!" I snapped back.

"I don't think you are—but I do think you've put on a lot of muscle in a short amount of time, and muscle burns calories like crazy. You're working out, holding down a job, and you already had one hell of a fast metabolism, probably the fastest I've ever seen in my life to eat like you did and look so good."

I snorted.

"I'm serious Steph! There's a reason Ranger eats like he does,"

"He's a masochist?"

"No," Bobby continued grinning. "There's a reason Tank eats like he does, and me, and Les—It's not just working out, you've got to refuel too."

"Okay, Fine," I groused, "I need to eat more,"

"And the right things," Bobby pointed out.

"Great, I love bark."

"It doesn't have to be _bark_ Bomber, start with the pudding Ella left you in the fridge."

One of my eyes popped open and narrowed suspiciously. "What the Hell is in the pudding?"

"Protein powder, and a vitamin supplement…don't look at me like that you won't even taste it! Ella's too good a cook."

 _Son of a Bitch_. That explained the pasta! "So, let me get this straight, Ranger had Ella put weight gain supplements in my _dessert_? I'm going to kick him in the nuts."

"Just remember it's all out of Love Bomber,"

"Yeah, Right." I tried to ignore the little flutter in my chest at Bobby's words.

"Don't worry Steph, in your current body condition the protein will only help you maintain. It will help you sleep better too."

I seriously doubted that, but nodded my head anyways. Bobby did _not_ need to know what was _really_ keeping me up at night.

 _The truth certainly wouldn't help me get out of the building._

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** _They're not mine sadly...but don't you wish they were?! ;D_

 **Notes:** Thank you, Thank you! to all the readers and reviewers! You guys rock!

This is a pretty long chapter and I tried to work hints of a few songs into it because hello, she's dancing and that's done to music, the right music sets a tone, and one in particular is just the perfect freaking song for Stephanie to dance too in this story, (and I can't stop jamming to it while I write!)

I hope it turns out okay and you can not only tell what songs they are but they flow with the rest of the words!

I'm sure you'll let me know! ; )

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

It was nearly six hours later before I ventured out of the bedroom into the rest of the darkened apartment.

After Ella and Bobby had left I'd decided to take a nap after all. I was pretty exhausted and hated to admit it even to myself but I slept better here than I had in the last week in New York or even at my parent's house.

I chose not to examine that fact too closely since it brought up complicated thoughts when I was still mad at Ranger's stubborn overbearing pig headedness.

Speaking of Ranger, there was No sign of him still, _not that I cared, because I didn't._

 _Jerk._

I was tempted for a half a second to storm right out of the apartment in his absence, take the elevator to the parking garages and simply exit the building—but knowing Ranger I wouldn't make it out of the garage before one of his Not-So-Merry-Men stopped me. He said stay in the building—I didn't think for a second it was just a hopeful suggestion he wouldn't reinforce.

Pacing the floor in Ranger's living room wasn't likely to make feel any better, and even though I entertained a split second flight of fancy over throwing the eggs, soy milk and wheat bran and doctored chocolate pudding around his apartment after peeking through the fridge, just to see his reaction when he got back—I decided It ultimately wasn't worth the risk.

I'd never survive in Uzbekistan or Kazakhstan, or where-ever-the-hell-istan Ranger sent people to these days.

So pacing was out, redecorating was out, and I couldn't bring myself to sit on his leather couch and watch reality TV for longer than ten minutes before I felt like I was crawling out of my skin.

 _I needed to DO something_.

Whenever I felt like this before I used to go skip chasing, or visit the mall, or Hell even the bonds office—none of which were options for me right now considering I wasn't working for Vinnie right now, and I highly doubted the Merry Men would let me out even for a 75% off shoe sale at Macy's…and considering it was already past 12am that really wasn't happening anyway.

Probably part of the problem was all the extra energy I'd built up not only being around Ranger, but not being able to work out the last 24 hours—in fact this was probably the longest I'd gone without a workout in nearly four months. Well. At least that was something I _could_ do something about, and considering the late hour I might even luck out and find the Gym empty.

A quick search through the drawers in Ranger's expansive closet produced workout clothes I didn't even remember purchasing—or ever owning, but they said Rangeman, and they were stretchy enough that my size change wasn't going to be enough of a problem that I couldn't wear them. I didn't have any other options, so I changed, laced up my tennis shoes and grabbed my IPod from my purse by the door.

I left the apartment and took the stairs to the fifth floor, giving the guys plenty of time to track my movement and hopefully not jump me the second I exited the stairwell. I didn't need to be on the receiving end of a linebacker sized pile-driver. No one tackled me when I exited into the main Rangeman office's hallway so I must not have looked like I was making my escape.

I approached the control room without running into anyone since the floor was basically empty at this hour—most of the staff that had been pulling the overnight shift was probably with Ranger responding to the Break-in, or some other emergency…not that I cared mind you.

I arrived at the control room to find two classically built Rangemen employees I wasn't familiar with, but then I'd been gone for so long it was entirely possible Ranger had hired half a buildings worth of new staff, or brought in contract workers and I wouldn't know any of them. I was hoping I wasn't stuck here long enough that it became and issue.

"Can we help you Ma'am?" The closest one asked when I reached the open doorway, proving that they'd at least been informed of my presence on the 7th floor and undoubtedly threatened with bodily injury or death if they let me leave the premises.

"I was thinking about heading to the gym, I just wanted to see if anyone was in there, and I was wondering if you could turn off the cameras—just inside the gym" I hastened to add when he gave me an irked look. "I'm just kind of uncomfortable working out with a bunch of cameras pointed at me, it's awkward."

Buzz cut number one stared at my half exposed mid-drift for almost a full minute before throwing out a "Sure, we can do that," but I wasn't completely convinced he'd follow through considering his eyes never made it back to my face.

 _Men._ I tried not to roll my eyes in front of them gave a quick "Thanks," and beat a hasty retreat certain I could feel their stares on my ass all the way back to the stairwell.

Well, it was worth a shot, they could at least tell Ranger I was working out not wasting away upstairs!

 _Asshat._

The gym was empty at least when I arrived, and none of the camera's rotated to follow me around the room like creepy-cyber stalkers so I was just going to ignore them. Even if they were watching I didn't know them, and they weren't any different than the customers I had to deal with at Dom's. At least they weren't waving ones and fives in my face.

I spent a few minutes plugging my IPod into the sound system wired through the room, the one the guys barely ever used—I guess they felt music might somehow distract them from their manly workout time. Whatever, If I've learned anything the last few months it that I need tunes to get me going, especially if I'm going to accomplish any kind of workout 'zone'. Ranger would probably scoff at that, considering the last time he dragged me out of bed long ago to jog with him I nearly puked on his sneakers, but that was then, and this was now.

I started with a brisk walk around the gym, preferring actually moving to the bizarre getting nowhere feeling of a treadmill when possible. I weaved through the machines, completing a circle then switched to high knees, and then a light jog, just enough to get my blood pumping. After two songs I felt good and warm so I started to stretch. I ended up using the push up bar on one of the free weight benches as a Barre since Ranger certainly hadn't installed on for his men.

I snorted briefly picturing Lester or Tank trying to do some of the Barre exercises I'd picked up from Tamsin, maybe I'd suggest that to Lester for his next locker room prank—replace all the gym shorts with tutus.

After running through every stretch I could think of I jogged around again. I still didn't feel relaxed, so I did some sit ups, and some planks, and then took another lap around the farthest edge of the gym. And that's when I discovered the metal support pole at the far edge of the room.

It wasn't exactly the right diameter compared to what I was used to, but it was damn close. And it was bolted into the floor and the ceiling with heavy duty iron bolts thicker than my thumb. Next to it was a shelving unit with different lead weights and vests to slip them into, and at the top was a bell…I could only assume this was Ranger's latest brand of cardio torture—put on weight vest, climb to the top, ring the bell or he'd ring yours.

It was possible it had always been here and truthfully since I'd barely made it past the dreaded treadmill every other time I'd come in here, and on principle avoided the whole room like the plague whenever possible. I honestly had no idea when it was installed. It had to be on purpose though because nowhere else in the building had exposed metal beams for support. There was no reason to have them in this room either—unless it was for climbing.

And if Merry Men had to climb it, it had to be sturdy. It was also in the far corner of the gym and a quick perusal of the cameras showed most of them to be pointed towards the center of the room, or the door—not the corner. _Maybe I wouldn't fall on my ass from lack of practice when I got back and Dominick wouldn't try to fire me after all._ Since this was the longest I'd ever gone since Tamsin's version of Pole-Boot Camp without actually working on anything I might as well use this opportunity.

God knows if I was stuck here tomorrow and Monday before I could use a phone to at least reach out to Tamsin or Davis then I better practice now…I wasn't going to do it when they guys were hanging around.

Not only might they get the wrong idea, Ranger's head would probably explode if he found out!

Squashing down squirm inducing thoughts of Merry Men trying to offer my ones and fives in exchange for dances I headed over to the music station and cranked it up so that it was really pumping. The gym was sound proofed so why the Hell not? I jogged back over to the pole and started with the basics, just like I had with the stretches and Barre; like I'd been taught.

 _Start from the bottom and work your way up, Steph._

I worked my way through spins, hand holds, and a few kick flips inverting myself and wrapping my legs, and arms around the pole while focusing on my breathing, and keeping the stretch through my legs while keeping my elbows locked or my legs fully extended. It's a lot harder then you'd think to pull off, especially when it came to making it look effortless. The previous song's beat faded and the first few beats to Tove Lo's latest song blasted through the air and had me suddenly grinning despite my previous funk. I instantly found myself swaying to the music and just going with it, letting go in a way I'd never tried before.

Tamsin never let me design my own routines. We spent all our time drilling moves and the dances she created or that were shared routines in the club—but lately anytime I heard jamming songs on the radio or on my IPod riding the subway I found myself closing my eyes and designing my own crazy dance routines in my head with the moves I'd learned and the ones I'd watched other girls pull off in videos or in class.

I spun around in a tight aerial display while Tove Lo waxed poetic about perfect bodies, and wanting love. My heart ached with the words and Ranger's perfect chest popped unbidden into my mind. I bit my lip guiltily only just realizing why I loved this song so much— _I could perfectly relate_.

I dipped back letting my hair drag the floor one leg perfectly extended overhead and then straightened while she asked someone to fuck her right for the rest of her life— I twisted back, spun all the way to the floor, climbed and flipped into a split then curled in on myself keeping the pole against my ribs and arm and slid into a perfect drop ending just inches from the floor as the chorus picked up again. I let go and rolled out into a split, then let go and stood up sweeping right into a series of fuetae's and then flipped straight into a liberty, I righted myself immediately after and grabbed the pole with both hands jumping into another series of spins.

The bass pounded through my veins and the words perfectly painted the images of Ranger in my mind. Ranger's eyes, his lips…his perfect body and exactly how it felt against me. Just the memory was enough to nearly fry my brain and sent heat coursing down my spine. My eyes were closed the whole time I forgot about the cameras, the room, in my head I was on stage all alone and I just danced for me because I wanted to.

It didn't work out exactly like I pictured in my head…there were some moves I wasn't quite strong enough to pull off yet, ,moves I'd only seen on youtube videos or watched the other girls pull off in advanced class; but I was getting there thanks to Tam's boot-camp and four solid months of training 6 to 7 hours a day! The things my body could do in just this short amount of time was pretty fucking amazing.

The song ended but I just kept going.

While Selena Gomez crooned on about how sick she was of the same old love, and Pink lamented failed relationships and advised hand jobs I twisted and climbed, spun and slid, and emptied two water bottles from the mini fridge. I had to shake my hands and arms out a few times to keep them from trembling they were getting so tired. But it felt so good I didn't want to stop, so I ignored the occasional muscle pain and jammed to a few more songs, stretched some more and hit the pole again when songs I simply couldn't resist came up. It wasn't like working with Tam who was always yelling; "straighten that leg Jersey!" or "that's not a split! Do that stretch again, and this time Make it look alluring for Christ sake-not like you're ripping out a ligament!"

This was fun, energizing and centering all at once.

 _It was like I'd found my zone!_

I'd made my way through a good fifteen songs and was really starting to feel a serious burn in just about every muscle I owned , Demi Lovato was asking what was so wrong with being Confident and I was thinking, _not a Damn thing_ , when the door slammed against the far wall of the Gym with a thundering _CRACK_ so loud I let out a surprised squeak and nearly fell on my face.

The music abruptly cut off and I sucked in a deep breath. I dropped my feet to the floor, flipping and twisting upright from my inverted position not wanting to meet whatever Merry Men had just entered the gym with my derriere waving at them when I heard him.

" _What_ the _Fuck_ are you _doing_?!"

I didn't think I'd ever seen Ranger so angry, but I found myself at the sight of him instantly fuming once more over our previous unresolved confrontation, _so Fuck it_.

"It's called exercise. Maybe you're familiar with the concept?" I tried to keep my tone level, but I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of it.

Ranger regarded me for a split second like I'd grown two heads, but his anger remained. "That's not exercise, you were practically stripping!"

"Pole Dancing."

"What?" Ranger bit back through clenched teeth.

I took my time picking up my third and now half empty water bottle, before taking a sip and returning the cap to the top. Tamsin was right, keeping my cool at Dom's with unruly costumers was helping keep my cool with the 'difficult' men in my life. I really wanted to wave my arms and rant obscene suggestions about Ranger's anatomy right now, but that had gotten me exactly zip before. And oddly enough now Ranger seemed to be the one close to losing it. I wish I'd remembered this calm approach earlier I might be out of here already, I was just so dumbfounded that he had the audacity to suggest I was on drugs that I lost it.

"Well?" Ranger growled.

"Pole Dancing Ranger, not stripping. Pole dancers don't take off their clothes, and they preform moves that require precision and muscle control." _And a shit ton of cardio_ , I didn't add for personal reasons—it was close to 3 am judging by the clock on the wall. I didn't want him getting overly excited and waking me up at 5am for a run. _Hell no_.

I might be physically fit now, but only _sadists_ run at 5am.

"That was not exercise! The guys are practically drooling up there!"

I rolled my eyes. So much for the cameras not being on.

"It might not be running at 5am Ranger, but yes; it is exercise. And it's not my fault they're thinking with their _dicks_! I'm wearing more clothes then I did the last time we went jogging together, in _public_! If I'd been on the treadmill you wouldn't be screaming right now. Your problem should be that your men can't handle seeing a women work out without turning her into a sexual object! Maybe you should address that." I shot back.

"That's not the point!" He snarled.

I paused to look him up and down raising the bottle once more to my lips to hide my smirk. "Really? Because The front of your pants say differently."

Ranger dipped his chin, fists clenched at his sides and let loose a string of Spanish that definitely wasn't on the Taco Bell menu.

"Seriously, What's your problem Ranger? I'm _here_ , I'm still locked up; congratu-fucking-lations, by the way."

" _My Problem_? My Problem is that _Everyone_ in the control room saw you!"

"Two guys at the monitors that are supposed to be watching _outside_ the building, _not in it!_ Sounds like you need to write someone up for an attention span problem, not being aware of their surroundings—"

"No," Ranger snarled clenching his hands. "The Core Team, both men on monitor duty plus Cal, Zip, Zero, and Ram."

I felt my cheeks flush pink, but there was nothing I could do about it now—and this wouldn't have happened if Ranger had just let me leave! "Big deal, nothing they haven't seen before." I shot back flippantly which seemed to anger him even more, he was practically steaming.

One eyebrow shot north. "You have a habit of stripping for my men?" Ranger growled so low I had to strain to hear the words.

"Pole Dancing." I shot back enunciating the syllables like he might be slow on the uptake. "And no, I have a habit of putting on slutty outfits that cover less of my ass then these shorts, and parading around to lure in skips… It has been a while though; maybe you forgot— _You_ like to call them _distractions_."

Ranger was suddenly a lot closer. I had to resist the urge to step back. _Don't show weakness, Dominate through your posture, and your words, it's an Attitude Plum. Own it._

"That was not a God Damn Distraction!" Ranger waved his arm at the pole.

"Why? Because it wasn't your idea? Or because it didn't get you a payday?" I snapped back, fighting to control my irritation and failing. "The only difference between _this_ workout, and a bump and grind in some shitty club is no one's hand was on my ass! And you didn't pick the outfit! What's wrong Ranger, Not showing enough Tit for you?"

"God, Damni—" Ranger cut himself off and forced a hissed breath through clenched teeth running his hands through his hair like he wanted to pull it out. "Why are you doing this? If you needed money—"

White hot anger flared through me like lightening. "This isn't about Money!"

"—Then what is it about?!"

"None of your God Da—"

"It is! It's my business if you're in trouble!"

"You can't fix everything!" I was screaming now, but I wasn't the only one. He didn't even have the decency to step back when I shoved him with both hands, not even an inch. _Bastard._ So I did it again, and then again without any result. It was utterly, infuriatingly, unsatisfying; like trying to push a bus uphill with my bare hands.

"News Flash Asshole!" I jabbed my fists into his chest punctuating each word. "You're! Not! Always! Around!"

Ranger's nostrils flared on his next inhale and the words came out at a deafening roar. "Then Call Tank like You're Supposed To!"

I'm not sure what flew first my fist or my words but neither had much effect. "Fuck You!"

Ranger snarled snatching my wrist and jerking my whole arm up and away from his chest so fast I fell forward smacking into him hard enough to rattle my teeth and bite the edge of my tongue. I tasted copper and saw red.

Bastard probably wouldn't flinch if I punched him in the face. "You can't tell me what to do!" I raged on trying to shove away from him with my one free hand, then some clearly crazy part of my brain with a death wish decided to test my previous theory. I hauled back and let him have it.

Ranger snarled something harsh in Spanish grabbing my other wrist before I could hit him twice. "Bastard!" I jerking back as hard as I could, getting nowhere. The skin around my wrists was on fire under his iron grip. "I'm not your God Damn Employee, or your Fucking Property!" I raged.

"Stop it!" Ranger's grip tightened and I shrieked in protest.

"No!" I kept twisting trying to break free, the pain only pissing me off further; so I did the next best thing and raised my knee intent on kicking him in the nuts only to be blocked by Ranger's thigh at the last second.

"Stephanie!" Ranger barked.

"Get off me!" My tired muscles were protesting, not that I could have probably broken free of his hold even before my workout. Ranger still had my hands held over my head, but his leg was now wedged between mine, throwing his balance off, so I hooked my heel behind his knee and yanked—Hard.

I hadn't really expected it to work beyond maybe giving him a well-deserved bruise if I was lucky. Maybe it was shock that I even knew how to do something like that—maybe he really was that far off balance, maybe he was so pissed off that he wasn't thinking straight either. I'd like to think it was the universe paying me back with some good karma. Whatever it was I succeeded in knocking him on his ass. Too bad the split second look of shock as he tumbled backwards couldn't be more enjoyable, because Ranger didn't let go of me.

Bastard didn't even appear winded when I landed on top of him, elbow right in his chest—but he did turn an interesting shade of red a moment later; probably because by pure luck I'd managed to knee him in the family jewels when we hit the gym floor all tangled up.

Ranger gasped something I couldn't hear and looked ready to vomit, and behind us someone was laughing their ass off. I twisted my head and yup, _the three stooges had arrived_. Though whether they were saving me from Ranger—or Ranger from me remained to be seen.

"Damn! Remind me not to piss you off Beautiful!" Lester cackled from beside a flustered looking Bobby.

I was still trying to get my wrists free when Tank grabbed me with both hands around the middle and lifted me away like a rag doll allowing Ranger to sit up and put his head between his knees like he was thinking about retching between all the Spanish muttering he was still doing under his breath.

Tank set me on my feet turning my wrists over in his ham sized hands frowning at the stark angry red marks on my skin that would no doubt bruise.

"You gonna live?" Tank drawled still inspecting my wrists.

"I'm fine!" I snapped.

Tank smirked down at me. "I was talking to Ranger,"

 _Oh_. He was looking a little green. _Served him right._ Bobby was leaned over him now though Ranger waved him away so I assumed he was going to live.

"I need to leave." I tried, _maybe Tank fearing my knee would see reason._

"You can go upstairs to Seven," Tank rumbled dismissively.

 _Or not._

"No. I need to _Leave_."

"Bossman's orders."

Bossman was still wheezing on the floor; though he was sounding better by the second. I scowled up at Tank's hulking frame and settling on pissy for my current mood. "Yes, and that's working _sooo_ well for him." I threatened making Tank's face stretch slowly into a highly amused smile. He looked like he was considering patting me on the head like a child.

 _Bastard! If I had to knee every nut in this damn building I'd do it!_

Behind us Lester started laughing again.

"Santos!" Ranger snarled, but it came out a little strangled. I resisted the urge to smirk—but only just.

"Tell you what little girl—I'll make you a deal." Tank rumbled. "You tell me what's so important and I'll let you leave."

 _Damn it._ I felt myself deflate _. I was never getting out of here._ Agent Davis said no one, and while I didn't believe for one second that any of the Merry Men could be the killer, or would endanger my cover; I wouldn't put it past that asshole to use me telling anyone as an excuse to throw me in jail even after all this time. Not to mention the looming possibility that if they knew what I was involved in they would never let me leave again!

"I can't."

"Must not be important then."

I turned to glare at Lester. "It is!"

"Explain it."

"I can't! I'm not allowed!" … _and that was the_ _ **wrong**_ _thing to say._ Four sets of eyes were suddenly boring into me like lasers.

 _Crap._

"Are you being threatened?"

"Not exactly."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"I can't tell you."

"So you _are_ being threatened."

"But she's in the building, no one can get in here..."

"Unless they're threatening her family, is that it beautiful?"

"No!" I rushed to cut them off before my whole family ended up in some safe house in the middle of Maine, "I just need to leave." Ranger I noticed was still saying nothing.

"and go where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Sure you can, you just open your mouth and spit it out!"

"Oh what because you guys tell me so much, what is that anyway; some kind of military code, boy's club bullshit? Well Don't ask, Don't tell, hurrah or some shit."

Behind me Bobby snorted back a laugh.

"Not what that means beautiful."

"Whatever!" I snarled rolling my eyes at Lester, he winked at me in response. Probably because Ranger was still staring down the floor and looking ill.

"Steph, if you don't tell us we can't help you," Tank as the voice of reason, who knew? Too bad it wasn't going to help.

"You can't help me! You can't fix everything by intimidating it or throwing someone out a window!"

"Try us."

"You can't keep me here," I tried again switching tactics.

"Seems to be working," Lester drawled pissing me off again.

"It's not!" I shot back, "Come Tuesday if I'm not back—shit."

"What happens Tuesday?" Tank had his arms crossed over his behemoth chest now looking as impassable as a mountain.

"Nothing, I have to go back to work,"

"The temp job, quit, you can work here." Bobby offered conversationally.

Frustration rolled through me. " _No_ , I can't!"

"Is it the gun range?" Lester threw in, "cause we can skip that part of the contract,"

"It's not the God Damn Job Lester! I have to _Get Out_ of here! People are Dying! Why the Fuck can't you get that?!"

Silence.

"Who's dying Babe?" Ranger was on his feet again looking healthy as ever.

 _Fuck. Shit. God Damnit!_ "You tricked me! I hate you all! You just get to make all the fucking rules, don't you?! News Flash! You're not the Boss of me, You can't fix everything! And if you keep me here, without trusting me when I say I _have_ to Leave…then you're not even my friends!" I turned to leave skirting around Lester when he reached out to catch my hand trying to stop me.

"Beauti—"

It was mostly rage, and part defense training over the last few weeks that had me twisting my arm around in his grasp breaking his hold like I should have done with Ranger a few minutes ago; but I'd been too furious too think straight not now—I jerked free and twisted my body raising my elbow and striking him in the throat sending him staggering backwards almost onto his ass.

I stood in shock for a split second gawking at Lester coughing and holding his throat, shocked that I'd landed not one but _two_ blows tonight on men three times my size. _Holy Shit._

 _I was certainly going to a third world country in a box now!_

Behind me Bobby stepped forward, I shifted on my toes moving toward the door again keeping him in sight and giving Lester a wider berth this time—even if he was still bent double and wheezing not looking ready to grab for me again.

"Steph…" Bobby started then jerked to a stop when I pointed my finger at him, or maybe it was the expression on my face, I had never felt less like joking then I did at this moment.

"No. Fuck you, No."

Bobby paused and my eyes landed on Ranger, he stared at me blank faced but the line of his jaw was clenched, still angry, and his cheek had a distinct red mark from my fist.

I spun back on my heel and booked it to the door before any of them started to move. I didn't have any doubt that anyone of them could overtake me if they seriously tried, but luckily they let me go for now. I hit the gym doors at a run, shoving them open and took the stairs two at a time and emerged on the sixth floor coming to a stop halfway down the hall in front of the one place I had _any_ hope of avoiding Ranger in this whole God Damn building.

I knocked wondering if she'd hear me at this hour and was shocked when a few moments later Ella opened the door and ushered me inside with a soft voice.

"I'm so sorry to wake you Ella, But I was wondering if I could sleep on your couch." I blurted out before I was even through the door.

"Of course you can sleep here sweetheart. I know Ranger can be difficult to deal with at times. Those boys can be overbearing at the best of times, they just want to keep you safe even if they go about it like knuckle dragging Neanderthals at times," she patted my arm and beckoned for me to follow her. "I'll pull out the fold out in Luis's office. He's out of town so you'll be undisturbed." I followed her retreating form. "You sleep in as long as you want Dear—call me when you wake up and I'll make you those chocolate chip pancakes you like so much—the real ones." She smiled at me and winked.

"Thank you Ella, I hate to get you in trouble with Ranger…"

"It's no trouble Dear. That boy needs to learn he can't go around barking orders at everyone and everything. Honestly, his mother raised him better! You're so good for him, don't give up on him dear, the smarter they think they are the harder it is for them to learn they don't actually know it all..." She stopped herself drawing a deep breath. "Well, I won't sit here prattling on, it's late. You get some sleep and I'll leave you some clothes for tomorrow, and there's a washroom through there towels in the closet, just past the sink."

I thanked her again then jumped in the shower to wash the sweat off. When I came back out I found a soft black t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that I thought came from upstairs laying folded on the end of the bed. I dried my hair, hung the towel in the bathroom to dry, dressed and climbed into bed worried the second confrontation with Ranger would keep me awake, but I was so exhausted I feel right to sleep.

* * *

 **To be Continued...**

 **.**

 **Incase anyone (couldn't tell or) wants to know the songs were:**

 _Talking Body (the explicit version!) by Tove Lo_

 _Same Old Love by Selena Gomez_

 _Try and UR Hand by P!nk_

 _Confident by Demi Lovato_


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I asked nicely but they're still Not mine. Darn!

 **Notes:** Huge thanks to the readers and reviewers! Another long chapter here!

* * *

 **Some of the reviewers were concerned that Ranger was being too assholey...**

 **I hope this helps explain the crisis our fave man in black is having! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

It was noon before I roused naturally from sleep and stretched. I pulled myself up from the surprisingly comfortable pull out couch and torn between making the bed neatly and stripping the sheets so they could be washed, I chose the former—just in case I needed to hide here one more night.

I might be forced to talk to Ranger tonight, but I was _Not_ going up to seven to sleep in his bed. I was too angry with him, and that would be like admitting somehow this was all okay.

I hopped back into the shower to tame the wildly tangled medusa beast that is my hair giving myself a good solid scrub down only half surprised to find a fresh bottle of Ranger's signature Bvlgari waiting for me on the shelf. There was also Mr. Alexander's curl-taming serum on the countertop next to the sink, a comb pick, toothpaste and an unopened toothbrush in pink.

Clearly Ella was not stocking these items for the boys. I wished not for the first time that Ella would just adopt me.

The apartment was empty when I emerged dressed in the brand new jeans and a t-shirt I knew had been upstairs in Ranger's apartment. The tennis shoes I'd left in the Gym last night were also here. Ella made a great double agent, and she seemed to be the one person Ranger didn't glare or snarl at…. _Ella had Ranger Immunity_.

I considered calling her to let her know I was up—her offer of pancakes was incredibly tempting…but Ella had a lot of things to do on a daily basis taking care of the guys; I felt bad that now she was having to hide and mother me on top of her daily task list. I ended up filching a blueberry muffin from the individually saran-wrapped basket on her kitchen countertop. The texture told me this was the whole grain and real fruit kind that Ranger sometimes allowed in the Rangeman breakroom and not the fat and real sugar filled kind Ella used to sneak me secretly. It was delicious though, and I actually ate two. I was seriously hungry from my lack of dinner and workout last night.

I considered saving the wrappers to throw at Ranger's face later, but figured that was beyond childish.

Now I was showered, and fed… there was nothing else to distract me, and I was _still_ trapped. Only this time in Ella's 6th floor apartment instead of Ranger's Seven. I wanted to pick up the phone and try dialing an outside line again, but I knew it would be pointless—if he'd blocked it yesterday, there was no reason to think he'd let me off the hook that easily today.

 _Ugh._

After a half hour I was feeling cagey and pacing the living room like a tiger. I was thinking about the gym again, wishing I had my IPOD so I could try to distract myself by at least laying back on the couch with some music—but I'd left it in the gym when I'd run out last night.

I glanced at the clock and frowned, at this hour there'd be a ton of Rangemen in the gym; possibly too many for Ranger to confront me…despite his lack of control last night I couldn't picture him getting into a screaming match with half his staff in witness… _I hoped_. And I _really_ wanted to practice again, or at least burn off some nervous energy. I felt tense and worked up and I needed to take the edge off or I'd explode—probably at someone.

I _needed_ to talk to Ranger at some point today—I had to make him see reason. He couldn't keep me here. I _had_ to go back or the deal I'd made would be gone and I did not want to go to jail! And more than that, I'd seen what this asshole could do. I wanted to stop him just as bad as Tamsin and Davis did now. Maybe even more. I felt like I had to do it after Yvonne and Em, I'd failed to get the job done fast enough to keep them safe.

Now it was _personal_.

I just didn't know how we were going to have a rational discussion like to adults when one, or both of us seemed to be losing it every time we tried. Maybe I should call Tank in to mediate. Tank was big, Tank threw people out windows; nobody screamed at Tank.

Well, Except Lula—but she was clearly crazy.

I thought about turning on the Television and hiding out but I knew if I waited too long there was a good chance Ranger would come confront me anyway—and I had a better chance of not finding myself handcuffed to a chair and interrogated if there were witnesses— _probably_.

I also needed my workout clothes from upstairs as the ones from yesterday had disappeared this morning—probably into the wash. Ella was even more efficient than my Mom. I worried I might encounter Ranger upstairs, and the last confrontation in his apartment hadn't gone so well. I didn't feel like round two in close quarters was a great idea.

I sighed heavily, picked up the phone and rang the control booth. Woody answered easily identifiable by his Texan drawl halfway through the second ring.

"Woody! It's Steph, is Ranger in his office?"

Woody blew out a breath into the receiver almost nervously. Guess the Merry Men all had at least some idea of the tension going on between us…not surprising really they were pretty keen, _and_ they gossiped like girls. "He is…been there since 4am in a seriously pissed off mood, do you want me to put you through..?"

"No! I just need to go to Seven…"

"…but you don't to be trapped?" Woody added after a slight pause.

"Yeah," I immediately felt guilty for asking. Using Ella _and_ Woody.

That's _Low Stephanie, really Low._

"Well, I'm supposed to tell him the second you come out of Ella's apartment…but I could be on the phone when you open the door, and that might delay me from buzzing his office to tell him right away…might take me three minutes to wrap up the client's phone call before I could inform him you'd left."

"Three minutes got it, thanks." I started to hang up before I could corrupt one of the Merry Men further _. I was totally going to Hell._

"Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna have to talk to him eventually."

I blew out a breath. "Yeah, I know…just not right now."

"Okay, cooling off period, I got it. Don't wait too long okay? Your timer starts when you open Ella's door." Woody added in a low rushed voice, then hung up.

I returned the phone to its cradle slowly, and went to pee first—that way I couldn't get upstairs and suddenly realize I had to go and get caught with my pants down, literally.

That taken care of I grabbed my sneakers from last night and holding them in my hand I opened Ella's door and booked it to the stairs—I hit the seventh floor hallway and fobbed open the door racing inside. I put my shoes and key on the sideboard—right next to my IPOD. Perfect! I ran to the bedroom already pulling my shirt over my head. I was naked faster then I'd ever been without Ranger's assistance. I quickly grabbed a pair of spandex shorts out of my drawer in Ranger's dreamy walk-in closet, and then a sports bra yanking both on as fast as humanly possible not even bothering to fix my hair, just shoving the strands pulled loose from my pony tail behind my ears. I grabbed socks, and then booked it across the apartment snatching my shoes, IPOD and the keys. I was afraid I'd open the front door to a pissed off Cuban, but the hallway was empty.

 _Now, stairs or elevator?_

Ranger would no doubt choose stairs…and the elevator was open and waiting. I had a split seconds hesitation wondering if this was Woody's doing or a trap set by Ranger before I jumped inside and smashed the button for five. I dropped one of my shoes to the elevator floor and shoved my right foot into the corresponding sneaker, not bothering to tie the laces before snatching the second shoe off the floor and stuffed my left foot in hopping on one leg to keep from falling over.

The guys were probably laughing there asses off on monitors.

The elevator doors opened with a muted 'Bing' and I jumped out speed walking to the double gym doors, trying not to trip on my untied laces while glancing over my shoulder at the stairwell door nervously expecting it to bang open any second. It didn't. I let out a little sigh of relief slipping through the gym door. There were a bunch of guys in here now—some I didn't recognize but quite a few that I did. A few of them turned casually to see who had come in I got a few startled looks, from the corner Manny sent me a conspiratory wink and then the floor shook under my sneakers and a heavy metallic **_CLANG_** echoed around the room making me jump.

A Merry Man I didn't recognize cursed softly and I watched him stoop to pick up the source of the sound–a dropped free weight barbell that probably weighed more than my whole body. Now _no one_ was looking at me, in a very obvious way.

I tried to ignore it feeling my cheeks heat as I glanced around the room wondering just how many of them had heard about my workout the night before, and my screaming match with Ranger.

Judging by the fact that no one would look at me—and not just in a they were consumed by their own workout's kinda way, I figured someone had circulated the story at least, if not a video feed of the incident. Lester had probably recorded it!

 _Right Okay, I was raised in the 'Burg, I ate gossip for breakfast. I worked at Dom's._ _Shit rolled off me._

 _Deep breath Stephanie!_

I squared my shoulders with another deep breath and marched across the gym ignoring them.

I couldn't stand around by the door or Ranger would certainly corner me. I stuffed my earbuds into my ears but kept the volume off on my IPOD so I could hear just in case anyone said anything I could use, or Ranger tried to sneak up on me. I went half way across the gym before ducking down to tie my laces, then I circled the other half of the gym to the open space beside the sparing mats and started to stretch.

Most of the guys had gone back to their workout and still seemed to be avoiding any kind of eye contact. But I did notice from the corner of my eyes as I stretched that many of them kept casting sideways glances in my direction—or at least it _felt_ that way. Maybe I was paranoid.

I finished my stretches and climbed onto a treadmill facing the mirror—this way I could watch the gym door and not get ambushed. After fifteen good solid minutes at a brisk jog I switched the machine off and moved to an empty weight bench near the end, the farthest away from the door and everyone else. I wasn't sure if the separation was intentional or just happenstance but it was irking me just a little bit. I adjusted the weight—probably the lowest it had ever been set to in this building, and started my reps breathing in-and-out slowly with each movement. Raising and lowering the bar to the count of ten with each motion. I was on eleven of my first set of twelve when a dark head hung over the bar and fingers wrapped around the bar just outside of my grip.

"Move your hands here instead. It will work that muscle group more for the slow count reps—and it will protect your elbows."

"Thanks Les,"

"No problem, I'll spot you." Les offered conversationally. Since I was flat on my back and he was already doing just that I didn't see the point in turning him down. It seemed Les was the only one willing to cross the gym divide and actually risk talking to me.

I worked through four more sets and even swapped positions with Lester to take a break—which was ridiculous. It wasn't like I could do much more then flap my arms and squawk in alarm if Lester couldn't finish a set and needed help lifting. _I definitely couldn't lift what he was pressing!_

I'd always considered Lester and Bobby the lighter weights of the core team—two inches taller than Ranger and a good 50 pounds leaner Lester was built like a strong swimmer or a runner. He still had python arms and washboard abs you could grate cheese on but Ranger is just solid, _everywhere_! Ranger's muscles seem to have muscles…and Tank was well, a Tank. I always considered Lester to be slightly less physically imposing then Ranger despite the height difference…watching Lester add weight disks to the bar and press my entire body weight and then some without even breaking a sweat I was forced to re-evaluate just how strong _ANY_ of them really were. It was shocking to consider.

 _It also made me wonder how much Ranger could bench press…or Tank! Yikes!_

"On a good day, 380."

I stared down at Lester mouth hanging open for a moment. _Merry Man ESP or I was talking out loud again_. "Tank? Or Ranger?" I might as well get clarification.

"Tank," Lester grinned. "Ranger maxes out at 290 these days—too many shoulder injuries, he dislocates his right a few more times and he's going to need surgery."

"Huh." _Batman was really, really strong...and not invincible. I mean I knew that, I'm not stupid enough to think he was actually a super hero; but still!_

Lester grinned at my stunned expression and set the bar in the cups over the bench without so much as a grunt. I wondered suspiciously if he could press higher and was just trying _Not_ to break a sweat.

"Treadmill?" Lester offered.

"Sure," We started walking and I glanced nervously at the door to the gym. Still no sign of Ranger I realized with a sense of relief…and a niggling sense of disappointment and hurt.

"You know, if you shifted your hands on your Dragon you'd get a tighter hold and you could extend farther."

I nearly tripped over my own feet. I stopped to stare at Lester mouth hanging open. "I hesitate to ask how you know this…"

"I've dated quite a few women with shall we say, _athletic_ talents?"

 _Strippers, of course._ I snorted and rolled my eyes. "That doesn't surprise me." We started walking toward the treadmills again then stopped. "Wait, what do you mean shift my hands?"

Lester grinned, and changed course. "Here, I'll show you."

 _Oh, Boy_.

I followed Lester across the gym and toed off my sneakers and pulled off my socks when he gestured to the pole in front of us. "You're Inverted V was really good yesterday, but if you shift your grip up you'll get more extension."

"I think if I shift my hand higher I'll lose my grip and fall on my head."

"No way, you're totally strong enough to do this, it's a confidence thing, come on."

I shrugged and moved to the pole making sure my hands weren't sweaty I grabbed on and climbed up just a few feet so I was about level with Lester's chest, then I twisted, grabbing the pole.

"Okay, move this hand here…" Lester adjusted my grip supporting half my weight as he did so, "Got it?"

"Got it,"

"Okay," he let go and he was right… _Son of a Bitch!_

I flipped back to the ground grinning like a fool. "Got any more suggestions?"

"You ever done a peanut roll?" Lester grinned back.

I narrowed my eyes putting my hands on my hips. "Are you coming on to me Lester Santos?"

He let out a barking laugh, "After last night? I'm not _that_ brave. Come on I'll show you."

We rolled through a few more holds, and Lester even knew how to do some moves I'd only seen the other girls do but that I hadn't even attempted yet!

"You learned all this from dating strippers?"

Lester grinned at me, it looked funny since I was hanging upside down. "Plus there was that time I had to pose as a male stripper in LA for two months."

I almost fell on my ass. I flipped back and slid down 'til my feet were back on the floor. "Bullshit!"

"No really, we were trying to find information on a drug coming up from South America that was being filtered through the strip clubs."

"Male strip clubs?"

"Yeah, it was killing a lot of people in the…homosexual community…"

"Wait. You posed as a… _gay_ male stripper?" In my head I was picturing the scene from Magic Mike…only it was featuring Lester…and a G-string…and for some reason Hector stuffing dollar bills into it…I wonder if Ranger ever had to pretend to be a Male dancer… _Holy Freaking Hot Flash!_

I shook my head, and checked my chin for drool and realized I was staring at Lester's crotch when he cleared his throat to get my attention.

"Um, Steph?"

"Sorry," I felt my cheeks heat trying not to think about it. "That's just…Damn, tell me this is on video somewhere…I'd pay to see that!"

I expected a leer, or some kind of offer for a private show but what I got was pink tinted cheeks and a cleared throat that had my mouth falling back open.

 _I'd just made Lester blush…Lester Santos! No Freaking Way!_

"So, you guys don't always go _into the wind_ and crawl through a jungle avoiding giant snakes, or plot to over throw third-world governments?" I babbled nervously.

Lester grinned finally the blush fading. "No, sometimes we're dealing with stuff that's _even_ weirder. And closer to home."

 _Huh_. Maybe Ranger _would_ understand what I was doing. With Ranger's sense of right and wrong I always felt like he'd get _why_ I was doing it—I just knew he would hate it and try to stop me. The only way to know was to find him and ask.

I looked up at when the door to the gym slammed open and I heard Lester mutter a curse under his breath.

 _Speak of the Devil._ It was unsettlingly like Deja vu.

"Ranger." Lester greeted when he was close enough.

"Santos." Ranger growled back, black eyes flashing murder.

 _Uh oh._

"Lester was just helping me wi…HEY!" I jerked back hissing in protest when Ranger's grip on my wrist stung the already tender bruised ring he'd left yesterday. Jerking did nothing, so I punched him in the shoulder—also with little effect.

Ranger spun around grabbed me around the waist and threw me over his shoulder without a word then continued to haul me out the door of the gym while I kicked and screamed obscene suggestions and punched him repeatedly in the back.

"Careful Beautiful, you're gonna bruise a kidney." Lester called over the noise I was making.

 _Good! I hoped he pissed blood for a week!_ _Man-Handling Asshole!_ _Jerk!_

Lester said something else I missed and Ranger spun around so fast the arm I'd raised to jab him in the butt again sailed around in an arc and barely missed smacking the elevator door. Ranger growled something guttural and hostile sounding in Spanish and Lester looked a little wide eyed and pale when Ranger jerked back around and stepped into the elevator savagely mashing one of the buttons on his way inside.

"Put me down!" I yelled at the floor. "Ranger!"

 _Nothing_.

The doors opened on seven and Ranger continued down the hallway to his apartment carrying me like a sack of flour. I redoubled my efforts when I realized where we were going. I kicked, and punched and then reached down and pinched a good inch of the skin through his skin tight t-shirt on his left side—just like my sister used to do to me when we were kids, then I viciously twisted the delicate skin between my fingertips the way they'd shown me in self-defense class, and I mean _hard_ —like I was trying to rip the flesh off his body.

Ranger jerked in reaction, stumbling with a barked curse. The hand that was on my thigh keeping me pinned to his body slid up to the edge of my shorts and he pinched my ass in retaliation making me shriek and flail my legs. I didn't have time to try anything else before he shoved the door open on his apartment with his opposite shoulder, slamming it shut behind us and dropping me so fast onto my feet with a shove of his hands I stumbled backwards into the door with an echoing **_Wham_**!

I rebounded a split second later intent on charging him, way past Rhino mode but found myself pinned once again, this time with the door at my back, and 280 pounds of seething all male Cuban at my front.

"Was _that_ Necessary?" He hissed through clenched teeth right in my face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I bit back. "You'll have to be more specific; what's got your panties in a twist this time? Was it the name calling? It couldn't have been the girly punches, or a little pinch…big bad mercenary getting picked on by a wittle-itty-bitty girl?"

Ranger snarled and pounded the door over my head with his fist rattling it against my back. I might have been freaked out by the near loss of control if I'd been thinking straight—Trouble was neither of us was level headed right now. This was going to be _bad_ , and I didn't give a flying Fuck. We were both breathing like we'd sprinted a mile. Ranger's expression and hostile body language was shouting warnings I was too pissed off to heed, I just plowed on when he said nothing ignoring the way he kept breathing harder and harder with each word.

"Oh I know, you must be _Jealous_ that I'm hanging out with Lester!"

"YES!" He roared deafening me. "I leave because I don't have a choice! And I come back to find your Missing! Not because some psycho has you, but WORSE you've just left town, Moved on without saying a Damn word! Then I find out you ARE in danger and instead of asking me for help, turning to me; you _Fight me at Every God Damn Turn! FUCK!"_ He punched the door again so hard one of his knuckles split. He hissed sharply pressing his hand into the solid surface breathing erratically, eyes on fire.

"RANGER!" Tank's bellow through the door made me jump, the lock beeped indicating someone was opening it and Ranger slammed his other hand against the door throwing the secondary bolt near the ceiling over my head to keep it shut.

"RANGER!" The door bounced harder but the bolt held firm.

"Open the Door Now!" That sounded like Bobby…

"RIC!"

"FUCK OFF TANK!" Ranger bellowed back.

 _Holy Shit. I think I finally broke Batman._

The pounding on the door I was still pressed against was rocking so hard it was rattling my teeth, it sounded like Lester was in the hallway too. The doorframe gave a splitting crack and Ranger snarled grabbed my arm just above my elbow and hauled me away from the front door and into the bedroom. I was too stunned to do anything but tag along.

Ranger slammed the bedroom door too with a vicious kick of his boot and then in a heartbeat I was up against it and Ranger's mouth was on me. I gasped and his tongue shot inside my mouth devouring me for a staggering stomach melting second before something primal coiled inside my gut and answered back.

As furious as I am at him _THIS_ is why I didn't want to be alone with him, kissing Ranger is as instinctual as breathing. I can run, and fight it but it's like holding my breath; the moment his lips touch mine I'm a goner. _I need his touch like I need air_. I'm shaking by the time our lips part, my arms are around his shoulders, one hand fisted in the thick dark strands of his hair and my leg is hiked around his hip pressing every inch of his amazing hard body closer to mine—I don't know if that was my doing or his.

"I just want you to be _safe_." He whispers the words against my ear drawing in a ragged breath that sends shivers down my spine, his hands tightening on my sides.

Through the bedroom door it sounds like a war is going on in the hallway.

"Ranger, I need you to trust me… _please_."

He clings to me arms tightening until it's hard to breathe, pulling me away from the door and into a hug that's crushing in intensity; burying his face against my neck. His exhale puffs out hot against my skin. "Babe," he breathes the word like a prayer against my skin making my throat close up, "I _can't_ lose _you_."

"You're not." My voice cracks and he squeezes me again so hard it feels like my ribs might snap.

He loosens his grip a second later before dropping one arm away and moving us a few feet and from the door, I stumble the few steps with him awkwardly. When he leans away from me to grab something out of a drawer beside the bed I can still hear the pounding and shouts outside. I ignore them a second later though; all my attention focus on Ranger expression. He's holding something out to me in his hand…a cell phone. _My cellphone_.

"Ranger?"

"I want you to call me, every day."

"Okay,"

"I mean it _Stephanie_ ," The menace is back and my eyes flick to his. " _Every_. Day."

He placed the phone in my hand and curled my fingers over it.

"Why?" I could almost kick myself for asking, afraid suddenly that he'd change his mind, lock me up forever and throw away the key.

He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, thumb sliding over my cheek instead resting his forehead against mine. "Because, I'm your friend Steph."

My heart stopped, a lump formed in my throat suddenly. _Friends_. The word physically hurt when it should be a blessing.

Friends.

 _Is that all?_

 _Don't be stupid Stephanie, you know that's all it will ever be._

 _And I knew that, or part of me did at least, the rest of me continued to hope and despair, and God it hurt. Especially when he could kiss me like that, make my heart burst into flames with just a single touch…_

 _It hurt so, so much._

Ranger's thumb made another pass, this time wiping away the tear sliding down my cheek. He opened his mouth to say something and the door to the bedroom flew open bouncing off the wall like a gunshot effectively cutting him off.

I scream and twist to stare wide eyed as Tank, Bobby and Lester surged into the room like madmen then froze almost comically in the doorway staring at us wide eyed. Nobody moved for almost a minute.

Ranger lowered his hand from my face to his side, glaring daggers at them.

"Uhh…" Bobby started uncertainly.

I couldn't believe it. The bedroom door was hanging off its hinges, there was a doorknob sized hole and a two foot crumple zone where it impacted the drywall! I leaned back against Ranger's left arm still wrapped around my waist in a half hug and pushed up on my tippy toes to see between Lester and Bobby's shoulders.

The front door was broken in two.

"Everything okay in here?" Tank asked conversationally.

"They broke the door." I point out. _I can't believe it._ They broke the _Ranger's_ door, both of them!

What the hell did they think was going on in here?

Ranger slid his other hand from around my waist as I dropped back to flat feet he raised one hand to tug one of my curls.

"Don't worry babe. It'll come out of their Pay."

 _Ranger Humor._

 _Great._

* * *

 **To be continued...**

 **So, Failed it...or Nailed it? ;)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** Come on guys, you should know by now... ;)

 **Notes:** Thanks to the readers and reviewers! Over 200 Reviews!

You guys are amazing! Thank you so much I cherish every one!

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I know a lot of people are shaking their heads and going, hot damn what's these cat's issues? Cant Steph figure out that Ranger loves her, and why cant Ranger figure out that Steph loves him...Well I mean come on! They're idiots. ; )

I'm trying to write them like I see them-essentially emotionally stunted, flawed people! They're not going to get this figured out over night! lol it's been three years, these two couldn't find common sense if you gave them a map and a compass! LOL

Hang in there, I swear they'll get it together

...eventually! ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen**

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True to his word an hour later I was on the Trenton train platform ready to board. Ranger had asked me to stay for dinner, but I was worried then he'd ask me to just stay the night…and of course I'd cave and crawling into bed with Ranger in my current frame of mind would be asking for trouble, I didn't think my heart could take being snuggled up with him, wrapped in his scent and body heat all night and not crack completely. I then he could change his mind about me leaving again too…or I would…no it was better to get out while I could.

"You sure you want to do this Steph?" Bobby asked, "You don't have to do this alone."

"I'm not alone." I reminded him.

I hadn't given them names, but I told them I was working with the FBI, and the local police. I wanted them to maybe be a little proud of me; know I wasn't being stupid. I was even taking self-defense training seriously for the first time in my life! I thought Ranger would be happy about that, somehow that only seemed to make it worse. Nothing I said seemed to help.

I know I wasn't an Ex-Ranger or Ex-Marine, I couldn't bench press twice my body weight or sharp shoot from 200m…but they couldn't lure this guy out with those skills either! If that were the case the FBI would have done it by now! I guess when stacked against their extensive training and instincts my limited skill set would just never compare.

It was time to face some hard facts. I was only useful to the FBI because I was a pretty girl with blue eyes and brown hair. I was the FBI's version of a distraction job; no one cared if I could throw a punch or could shoot a gun.

Lester and Bobby had looked increasingly grim as we talked and Ranger's mouth had turned to a hard thin line when I'd refused to offer them anymore details and begged them not to get involved. I'm not stupid, I knew Ranger could call the FBI or his government contacts and probably find out who was running the case in a matter of minutes—Hell he might not even need to go that far, he probably had a computer program that would find the information for him…but I was asking him not to get involved.

I felt terribly guilty looking at their faces, but I knew the more I told them the more they'd butt in, I considered it for about half a second when Ranger asked me again, but I hadn't even had to close my eyes to see exactly how that would pan out. Bobby would be tending bar, Lester would take over as the Announcer, and Ranger and Tank would bounce people out the door left and right for trying to put a hand on my ass! I might be safe, but I highly doubted a killer that has eluded the police and FBI for so long would risk showing his face if he saw all that…I might as well not go back if that were the case—I would be useless, and more girls would die when I might have been able to stop it!

I also didn't think Agent Davis would appreciate Rangeman getting in the middle of their case. If Prime time TV has taught me one thing it's that the FBI and local police, really do squabble over who gets to do what, where…I highly doubted they'd take the interloping of a private security company with any grace. Ranger has told me before that interfering with FBI business can get you jailed. I didn't need that on my conscious too!

If he did it anyway they'd all be going behind my back, violating my trust in them. It would be just as patronizing as trying to lock me in the building like a child. I was an adult; this was my life, and my choice.

 _Friends don't do that to their friends, right?_ _I mean that's what we were—in Ranger's own words: Friends._

I'd almost choked on the emotion lodged in my throat trying to tell him that; my chest felt so tight I thought it might pop and I'd had to stare down at the floor just to get them out. He wouldn't even look me in the eye afterwards. I knew he was angry with me, but I couldn't depend on him all the time—no matter how hard I wanted to…I needed to stand on my own two feet and stop abusing his _friendship_ to clean up all my messes.

The urge to cry was so strong I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep it together, even now.

 _Don't think about it Stephanie, just get on the train and keep it together._ Nobody would treat me like an adult if I was sobbing like a little girl.

"Yeah but—" Bobby blew a breath out his nose and stopped.

"But it's not you guys?" I finished for him.

"Well, Yeah." Lester drawled from beside him.

"I know." I had to go up on my tippy toes to get my arms around Lester's shoulders with our height difference—not that it mattered because he picked me up and leaned back anyway leaving my feet dangling a good six inches off the ground.

"Be careful Steph," he squeezed me when he said it.

"I will," I whispered. "I'm sorry I hit you,"

"Don't be," Lester chuckled in my ear before planting a big wet kiss the side of my neck.

"Put her down Santos. _Now_." Ranger growled from a few feet away.

He put me down waggling his eyebrows at me while I swiped at my neck and curled my lip. "Thanks,"

"Anytime Beautiful! Anytime!" he winked.

"Santos!" Ranger was being amazingly subdued, I'd expected a lot more fight out of him—a change of heart or something, anything but this passive blank face… he'd let me pack my bag alone giving me all the new clothes Ella had brought me while they waited in his living room. When I'd finished he'd informed me he was driving me to the Train station himself, and the guys were gone.

When we arrived at the parking garage he'd looked momentarily pissed off to see the guys leaning against the SUV closest to the elevator doors waiting for us but he hadn't said anything other than a sharp, "Let's roll." He'd remained silent while first Tank, and now Bobby and Lester said their quick goodbyes to me.

"We'll be at the car," Bobby announced giving me a quick squeeze and grabbing Lester by the back of his shirt muttering what sounded like _before you get yourself killed you stupid jackass!_

"Steph,"

 _Back to that were we?_ I sighed. "Ranger,"

"Make sure you call."

"Yes sir!" I resisted the urge to give him a snappy salute.

"I'm serious Stephanie."

"I know. I will."

Ranger drew in a deep breath. Opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He nodded and the intercom went off announcing that there was three minutes to departure.

"Um," I felt like I should say something, but I had no idea where to even start.

"Thanks Ranger," I finally uttered trying to ignore my voice wobbling a little on his name.

He nodded again, turned on his heel and strode off the platform and back to the SUV.

.

* * *

.

The ride to Penn station seemed to take an eternity. I spent the first part of the ride trying to ignore the ever expanding ache in my chest. Then I called my Mother when I realized I had two missed calls from her asking if everything was okay after Ranger had shown up at the house to grab my suitcase without much explanation, it was a wonder she'd let him in the house. I apologized for having to go back a day early, blaming my early absence on work needing me, but she seemed more intent on finding out about where I'd stayed last night. She wanted to know what was going on between me and Ranger. I'd almost started crying again but managed to keep it together, pretending we had a bad connection so I could get off the phone faster.

I chose to take a taxi to my apartment instead of walk, it was drizzling lightly and the air was cool inside the city. I'd texted Tamsin on the train ride in letting her know I was back and I'd be at class tomorrow, I'd asked to work on Monday since I was here, hopefully she would say yes. It was only 830 but I was feeling drained and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I sent Ranger's cellphone a quick message and went to brush my teeth. I was spitting out my tooth paste into the sink when I realized the phone was ringing in the other room over the sound of the running water.

I bustled into the room wondering if it was my Mother or Tamsin and felt my stomach drop when I saw RANGER flashing on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Not a Text Message Stephanie."

"What?"

"You're supposed to call me. Not text."

"What's the difference?"

"Anyone could send a text. It needs to be _your_ voice, do you understand?"

"Okay, Sorry."

"I'm glad you got in safe, call me tomorrow."

"Okay,"

And he was gone. I blew out a sigh and set the phone down to stare out the window at the rain slapping my windowpane obscuring even the minuscule view between the buildings. Pretty much summed up my mood.

For once hearing Ranger's voice only seemed to make everything worse instead of better, and I had no idea how to handle that. I double checked the door locks, and shut off the lights before crawling into bed.

 _I just wanted to put this whole thing behind me._

 _._

* * *

 _._

The next morning my alarm went off at 10:30 am. I got up, skipped the shower, dressed for working out at the studio and forced myself to eat a bowl of oatmeal hardly tasting it. All I wanted to do was pull the curtains closed and crawl back in bed.

I'd had nightmares all night, and lain awake for hours between them tossing and turning before finally getting up and turning on the lights hoping that would help. It hadn't.

Class was a struggle, not because of the moves but because everything felt like such a monumental effort I was so tired.

At three thirty I hit the corner market for a few staple food items and toilet paper but when I got home instead of making myself something to eat I took a shower and went back to bed. My alarm jolted me violently from a disturbing dream at quarter to eight, I showered did my hair and make-up and threw on some jeans, a cut off halter top under a fleece hoodie and tossed my black spandex bottoms into my bag to change into at work since Tams had told me I might as well come in earlier today. I made myself eat a banana and locked up so I could make it to work.

Tuesday night's aren't usually that busy, so the first part of my night was pretty quiet. We were on a forty-five minute rotation tonight with three girls alternating dances. My first two routines were ones Tamsin had picked out, but they felt boring and too rehearsed after this weekend. I needed to snap out of this funk or I felt like I was going to scream!

At 1am the club was still pretty quiet so I took my IPOD up to Stanley the sound guy and asked if he could change things up a bit. "I'll have to run it by Dom, if 'es ok with 'em 'es ok with me."

Ten minutes later he flagged me down and gave me a thumbs up. Now I just had to hope Tamsin didn't kill me!

Stanley took over the microphone and did my introduction and I moved out onto the stage, as the beat started up, I kept my eyes closed just like I did before and just went with it, my body felt electric and the changes that Lester had helped me make were perfect! The song felt like it was over in a heartbeat and the applause and screams from the darkness hidden by the lights were thunderous. I jumped and smiled hoping to cover it, I'd forgotten anyone was watching honestly.

I got off the stage quickly and saw Tamsin heading towards me with a livid expression on her face. She pointed towards the locker room.

"What the Hell was THAT Jersey?" Tamsin snapped charging through the door behind me.

"You said get attention, it's not like I can wear a neon sign blinking, 'hey deranged lunatic pick me, pick me!'"

"I said get attention, not start a riot!"

"Well excuse me for being effective!" I shot back snottily.

We glared at each other until Becca popped through the door. "Damn Jersey!" she grinned at me. "Girl you either got laid right all weekend long or you need a good dicking something fierce!"

Behind her back Tamsin quirked an eyebrow at me in question.

"I'm not answering that!" I shot back.

Becca started laughing, "You just did." She grabbed a sequin top out of her locker and yanked it on. "Glad I don't have to mop tonight!" she winked at me and breezed out the back door moving towards the stage area.

"What?"

"She's implying the floor is a mess because your routine was too much for those poor guys to contain themselves."

I just stared at her in confusion until she rolled her eyes at me and made a hand gesture.

"Ewww!"

Tamsin threw her head back and laughed at me. "God Jersey, you kill me. You can go out and dance like _that_ but you turn into a tomato over a hand job."

My lip curled up. "That's the last thing I want to think about when I'm going out there."

"Well, start thinking it. Keep channeling whatever that shit was out there and let's hope it works."

"Does this mean I can pick my own music?"

Tamsin smirked and turned to leave. "We'll see."

It was three am before I made it home, we'd had a bachelor party show up completely trashed after doing a bar crawl most of the night and I'd repeated my performance on the stage in our private party room and then made up another one on the spot because they guys had demanded I dance again.

I was beyond exhausted from a long day and shitty sleep, and sore on top of that; but pulling the private party at the end of my night meant I got to split the private room fee with Alicia. The extra 800 dollars wouldn't go in my account until next week since we were always a week behind for book keeping purposes, but thanks to my savings and lack of expenses I wasn't chomping at the bit to get the money—I didn't need it. Probably I should start a 401k for myself, I used to have one at EE Martin; but I didn't know how. Maybe I should ask Ranger.

 _Ranger. Shit._ I glanced at the clock.

It was so late I really didn't want to call Ranger. I'd been arguing with myself since before I left work I'd debated calling him while I was still at work, telling him I was home already—but then we'd gotten busy and I hadn't had a chance.

He usually gets up at 5am—the last thing I wanted to do was wake him in the middle of the night just to tell him I made it home. If I hadn't promised, and he hadn't sounded so pissed yesterday I would have just shot him a text message and went to take my shower so I could go to bed myself. I smelled like smoke, beer and cheap cologne.

I paced the apartment twice and finally hit speed dial, nerves clawing at my stomach. If the phone rang twice and he didn't answer I'd just hang up and send him a text—then I could say I called but he was sleeping.

He answered halfway through the first ring. "Stephanie." He sounded completely awake and more than a little out of breath, I could actually hear him exhaling forcefully through the phone.

Sharp pain shot through my chest instantly wondering why he sounded out of breath at three in the morning. I could only think of one time I'd heard Ranger so out of breath… _Stop it Stephanie, just Stop it!_

"Stephanie?" Ranger repeated louder.

"Um, sorry," I swallowed trying to ignore the burning behind my eyes, the fist squeezing my heart _. It was none of my business if Ranger was with someone else, he wasn't with me…God I was so stupid._

"I'm home." I blurted out trying to explain.

"Good. Go to bed."

"o—okay."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." I had to get off the phone before I burst into tears.

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow." His tone was clipped and his breathing was still erratic in the background someone moaned and my heart stopped.

"Okay." I barely got the word out. I think I actually hit the end button before Ranger but he didn't call back. He probably didn't care that I'd hung up on him and was already back to doing… _whatever_ he'd been doing to make him so out of breath when I called. My hands were shaking when I set the phone down on my bed.

I tried to keep it in telling myself it was no big deal, but it didn't help, if anything trying to deny it only made it worse. I end up sobbing in the shower uncontrollably like a lunatic until the water turned frigid and blasted me in the face. If that didn't sober me up nothing would.

I climbed out of the shower dried myself and pulled on a t-shirt and yoga pants, I checked the locks on my door turned off the lights and climbed into bed chanting the same thing over and over.

 _I don't care what Ranger does, I don't care what Ranger does, I don't care who Ranger does…_ Tears tracked down my cheeks soaking my pillow _._

 _It was a complete lie_.

There was no way I was calling tomorrow.

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Notes:** Thanks to all the readers and reviewers! Man the speculations are flying!

You don't _REALLY_ think Ranger would answer the phone if he was with 'entertaining' someone else?

Man's got better sense then that! At the very least, to many variables for something to be said/go wrong!

He's not _trying_ to hurt Stephanie...he's just clueless, and incapable of expressing his emotions out loud! ;)

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty**

* * *

My alarm went off at 10:30am pulling me tetchily from the first full hour of genuine sleep I'd gotten all night. I laid in my sweat damp rumpled sheets staring at the yellowed ceiling overhead for a few moments trying to decide if I could get away with texting Tamsin and not showing up for class today. I was pretty sure the daily training was part of my contract with Davis, which they were not only paying me for—but was also keeping them for tossing me in jail. If I failed to show up it might not reflect well, and as exhausted as I was I didn't want to go to jail—especially after I'd just had to pretty much beg Ranger to let me handle things on my own.

I could just see the expression of disdain on his face if he had to come bail me out of jail anyway.

I groaned pulling myself up, and went ahead and stripped the bedsheets down tossing my down comforter into the chair so it wouldn't be on the floor all day. I pulled out my laundry bag—which was more than half full and stuffed the sheets and sweaty pillow cases into the top, then I stripped off my rumpled t-shirt and panties tossed those in and tied it shut.

I'd have to drop it off on the way to the Studio but at least the laundry mat offered a wash/dry and fold service. It was almost as good as having my mother do my laundry—maybe better because Vi didn't give a crap who I was dating; she just wanted to know if I was interested in purchasing a scented bag for my drawers to keep my clothes fresh and if I needed anything in the bag ironed for a small extra charge.

I started the shower up and stood under the spray trying to reduce the grainy feeling behind my eyes from lack of sleep, and washed my hair. When I got out I dried, finger combed my hair back and dressed in blue spandex shorts and a sports bra covering them with my last clean sweatpants and a cheap I Love New York t-shirt I'd picked up. I started the Keurig, and brewed a coffee into my thermos. Since I had to drop my laundry off I'd just grab a bagel at the Jewish bakery next door. I didn't feel that hungry anyway, I might skip it all together. I grabbed my laundry bag, my messenger bag and my coffee and scooted out the door.

The Laundry mat doors were open in deference to the heat build-up of the constantly running dryers and trying to coax in some of the cooling air from the street. Fall was on its way, if I ever had time to make it to Central Park it was probably beautiful, but it was a long way from my apartment. I dropped my bag in front of the counter next to the little half door that led to the back.

Vi leaned over to look at it nodding her head, "Good, good, laundry yes ready by 2'oclock today. That work for you?"

"Yes, that's great."

"You want lavender bag? Make your clothes smell _fresh_."

"Uh, no Thanks Vi, just the wash and dry please."

She peered up at me through her thick glasses. "You got man?"

"Uh…"

"Nooo?"

"No."

"You pretty girl. You should have man. My Granddaughter, Ming-Li, she has man; she use bag. You get lavender bag, you get man; men like good smell."

"Uh…I don't rea—"

"Or woman!" Vi added waving her arms dismissively and shaking her head, "Vi no judge."

"I'm good Vi, but thanks."

Vi clucked despondently but promised to have my bag done by two. I left with my laundry ticket shoved in my bag shaking my head, _okay—it was **exactly** like having my mother do my laundry. _ I went two store fronts down and bought a cinnamon raisin bagel toasted with cream cheese and ate it while I walked to the studio.

I walked in to find Tamsin already waiting for me, the corners of her mouth pressed to a tight line and a little crease between her eyebrows..

"What's wrong?"

"The crime scene report came in."

"Oh." I dropped my messenger bag into the corner limply.

"Yeah." Tamsin blew out a frustrated breath.

"They didn't find anything."

"They have boot prints," She offered.

"Well that's something at least, right?"

"We have the same boot print in whole or partial at two other scenes; so it helps us prove it's the same guy, and If we can find the asshole they could match the sole to something he owns. Hopefully find DNA evidence to nail him with, but it doesn't help us find him right now! I'm just so frustrated with this shit! He's got to make a mistake, nobody is perfect, they start to speed up and they get erratic—or cocky! And they make a mistake! Seven people! This should be over by now!"

I'd never seen Tams so worked up. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for Jersey? You're risking your life to catch this guy, do you know how rare that is? People in Law enforcement turn down these kinds of assignments!"

 _I didn't really have a choice did I?_ I shrugged and Tamsin shook her head. "There's something else,"

"What…God just tell me what?" It was going to be bad I just knew it…

"They found semen behind the dumpster in the alley."

"That's _disgusting_ Tamsin." _We worked in an exotic dance club! I didn't want to think about all the places you could find semen! I'd never be able to touch another surface at work! Too late, now I was thinking about it, I was stopping to buy some of that hand sanitizer before work…it came in lavender right?_

"Steph," those ice blue eyes were fixed me trying to convey something… _Oh god_. My stomach dropped like a rock.

"He was in the alley."

"Yes."

"He saw me?"

Tamsin nodded slowly. "Yes."

"We don't know for sure it was him…" _But I knew, the prickly ants crawling across every inch of my skin, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck…God he'd been right there, watching me…_

"They found Ember's blood in it, they think he had it on his hands when he—"

"Stop!" I shouted trying desperately not to think about what Tamsin was actually saying, I wanted to shove my fingers in my ears and hum, I wanted to pass out or throw up, or… _Oh god…This guy was twisted…sick, inhuman…and now he had his sights on me…_

"Deep breaths Steph, deep breaths…"

"We need to talk about something else…" or I was going revisit my bagel. I was seriously starting to wish I hadn't come back to New York. _I could survive jail, Orange wasn't such a terrible color…_

Tamsin had jumped up and moved to the mini fridge, pulling it open. "Do your parents know what you're doing?"

"God no," I let out a shaky laugh. "My mother would die; she thinks I'm working in an office building." I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly, "What about your parents? Do they like what you do?"

"Are my parents thrilled their only daughter is currently a night manager at an exotic entertainment club?" Tamsin drawled smirking. "Oh, they're just thrilled." She grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and returned to sit next to me twisting off the cap and handing it to me. "Drink. If my mother had gotten her way I'd be a prima ballerina."

That was a _serious_ swing. "…and your Dad?"

"Law school."

"So…"

"How did I end up here?" she grinned.

"Yeah,"

"College. One thing led to another, and let's just say the tutu shit wasn't ever really my thing. I put on my first pair of combat boots and never looked back."

I blinked. "You became a lesbian?"

Tamsin snorted shaking her head. "It was College Jersey, I'm not gonna say I never tried it but no— this chickly is strictly dickly. I joined the Army my junior year after 9/11. When I got out after six years I'd gotten used to the structure and following my own drum, so I kept doing it."

We sat silently for a few moments. My head wasn't swimming as badly now.

"I was thinking about that routine you did the other night," Tamsin finally said.

"Yeah?"

"And I think you should pick your own music and we could work out the routines together. You might as well have a little fun doing this, just not too much fun."

"Afraid I'll start a riot?"

Tamsin smirked when I sat back completely to look at her. "I'm afraid you'll show everybody else up and start a cat fight."

 _Ha_.

The rest of the day went quickly. I made it through class without falling on my head and even managed to impress Christy when I picked up two new moves in less than thirty minutes. I'd never picked up skills for bounty hunting this easy, but then I'd never really done any training either. Ranger had offered and I'd tried for about three weeks before throwing in the preverbal towel and announcing 'Good Enough'. The trouble was it _wasn't_ good enough, not even close—most days I was mediocre, I depended on luck and family connections instead of skills or athletic ability, the rest of the time when that fell through and the shit hit the fan; I was a train wreck.

If I'd taken Ranger's training as seriously as I was taking this I wouldn't have had to depend on him so much. I would been a lot more successful, had less heart ache, ripped jeans and overdue bills. I probably owed him an apology for that. If I went back to skip chasing after this, I was going to do it right this time.

I was paying for my laundry after class when my phone rang in my bag, it was probably my mother. I handed Vi a twenty and dug through my bag with my other hand trying to grab it then stared at the flashing screen.

((UNKOWN NUMBER))

I stuffed the phone back in my bag deciding to let voice mail pick up. It was probably a credit card offer, since I'd paid all of mine off; or worse one of those consumer surveys that tried to keep you on the phone for twenty minutes and keep calling back for months if you answer once. _I hate those things._

"Who Dat?" Vi asked peering over the top of her glasses and leaning up onto her toes trying to see the screen of my phone as I dropped it into my bag, still trilling away.

"Probably a wrong number."

She didn't look convinced. "Here your laundry, I throw in lavender bag for you—no, no; no charge. You need. It work, you see."

"Thanks." I dropped my change into my bag except for an extra five I stuffed into the tip jar. Vi's smile broadened. I picked up my bag and slung the strap over my shoulder turning to go with a wave.

"Maybe you try nicer underwear, you get some lace. One of those tongs, men like dat."

 _Oh boy. Maybe when this was over I should introduce her to Grandma._

I was changing tops and fixing my makeup in the locker room at 9pm when the door opened behind me.

"Hey Jersey! This was at the front door for you."

"What?" I was trying to get the clump of mascara out of my eyelashes without blinding myself and couldn't see.

"Hey! Check it out Jersey got Flowers!" Alicia grinned pulling the tag out before I could tell her not to touch it.

"What's it say?" Becca leaned over the bench on one knee to see it.

"Alicia, No…" _God, please don't say something about the murders…please don't…._

"You looked like an Angel, Thinking of only you!" Alicia squealed. "Damn! How come Jersey gets flowers? I never get flowers!"

"Shake it harder!" Sara told her, "One time this old guy gave me a diamond necklace."

"You lie!"

I'd stopped listening. I was staring at the roses in Hue's massive hands, the card he was holding out to me in two sausage sized fingers. "Has Tams seen these?"

"It's addressed to you." Hue pointed out.

"Okay, thanks." I took the flowers and the card from his hand. Tucking it back into the little plastic holder on top praying that maybe there might still be a finger print or something on the damn thing…I pushed my way out of the locker room and moved towards the bar. Tamsin was standing behind it smirking at a customer and pouring him a whiskey sour with one hand.

Her eyes flicked up when I approached she took one look at the flowers and my probably freaked out expression and held up a finger to the other guy trying to get her attention down the bar. She slid the drink towards the guy she'd been serving and circled the counter grabbing my elbow and hauling me towards the office.

"Where did those come from?" She asked the second we were through the door.

"I don't know, Hue brought them back from the front door—my name is on the card."

"Could be from one of the horny guys at the bachelor party last night," Tamsin pointed out and we stared at the card, and then at each other. _Or it could be from the killer,_ we were both thinking it. "What's the card say?"

"You looked like an Angel, Thinking of only you." I repeated.

"That's not so bad, it's almost sweet. It's probably a drunk college kid."

"Holding this is giving me the creeps." I pointed out.

"Right, hang on." Tamsin pulled the office trash bag out of the can and reached inside grabbing an extra white bag she shook it open and tilted her head towards the bag. I dropped the flowers in like a hot potato. "Better safe than sorry—but if ham hands had it there's probably nothing useful on it. I'll call Davis to send patrol by to pick this up," she was twisting the bag closed, tying it with a knot.

"Thanks."

"Good job Jersey,"

"I didn't do anything."

"Well get back out there and keep your eyes peeled, anybody you don't recognize—anybody who seems too interested in you, or won't look you in the eye—"

"Tams that's half our clientele!" Hell, _Over half…_

"Just go with your gut, you said you could tell the guy was in the alley, if someone freaks you out point them out to me and I'll find a reason for Hue or Bo to double check their ID."

 _Great_. I was really hoping we weren't going to be depending on _just_ my Spidey sense to catch this guy. I turned to go out and Tamsin caught my wrist.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Be careful."

"Yeah."

 _Now I really wish Ranger was here_.

I moved back to the floor and spent the forty-five minutes between each stage call walking around and talking to drunks, sleaze-balls, bored married guys, college frat boys and the occasional average unremarkable man here for one reason, or another. A few guys bothered me, but mostly because they were drunk, not our man.

This guy wasn't drunk. I realized circling the room endlessly. He was _careful_ , he was good at blending in...I was looking for someone that appeared to be drinking, or was drinking but such a small amount that he wasn't being affected. Anyone that was outright drunk, rowdy or loud I immediately eliminated. Too noticeable, too memorable.

Tamsin insisted that she and Hue standing outside with me until I was safely tucked into a taxi at 2am when my shift ended. Considering how fast Von and Em had died I wasn't arguing. I didn't want this guy catching me alone in the dark for even a minute. The whole taxi ride I argued with myself over whether or not to call. My feet hurt, my arms and legs were sore from working out earlier today and I smelled like a brewery.

I jumped in the shower when I got home throwing my phone onto the bedspread. It was just getting later and later, but the ball of dread in my stomach wouldn't go away. Ten minutes later in my pajama shorts and t-shirt I was staring at my phone again.

 _Just call, get it over with. Be an adult Stephanie!_

I took a deep breath picked up the phone and hit speed dial. It rang twice and then picked up.

"Steph,"

"I'm home. Doors locked, going to bed." _Stop babbling! Just get off the phone before you hear something else!_

"Good." There was a pitched tearing sound in the background.

My brain fixated on it, instantly trying to place it and failing. "What was that?" _Oh God, Shut up Steph!_

 _"What, This?"_ The same sound came through the phone again, clearer this time.

 _What the hell was that?_ "Yes that! What are you doing?"

"Velcro, I'm taking off my gloves."

 _Gloves_?

"Boxing gloves,"

"Oh," my nose scrunched up. "Wait, why are you boxing at three in the morning?"

"Can't sleep until you call."

 _Shit, I knew I was disturbing him, he's not even here and I'm still messing up his life!_

"Ranger! You can't function on two hours of sleep every night!"

"It's fine."

"It's not fine! I don't want you getting shot or killed because you're too tired to be safe! I'm not calling tomorrow, this is ridiculous!"

"Stephanie! I'm trained to function through sleep deprivation. You _Will_ call tomorrow or the agreement is _off_! I Just need to know that your Safe! Do you understand me?" He bit the words out voice growing steadily louder with each word. "Call me tomorrow, I don't care what time it is."

"Okay."

 _Tomorrow I'd call earlier, even if I was still at work._

.

* * *

 **To be continued...**

 **so Ranger's boxing at three am and Steph is getting mystery flowers at work and unknown calls... :O**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but a girl can dream right?

 **Notes:** Didn't get much writing done this weekend, it was Easter on Sunday and we had a lot of family gatherings going on-and then my baby and toddler decided that sleep was for wussies on Friday, Saturday AND Sunday night...Mommy needed a nap in the afternoon to even function, sadly this meant when I asked the muse about a chapter she gave me the one finger salute.

You understand. ;)

* * *

edited for typos now, I was really tired when I proofread! :p

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

10:30 am. _God._

My eyes felt like someone had spent the last six hours grinding sand into them. Blinking actually hurt. I pulled myself up from the tangled sheets with a pitiful groan and stumbled blearily into the bathroom starting up the shower before sitting on the closed toilet lid for a few moments breathing deeply. I had to get some sleep tonight. I couldn't keep functioning like this.

Somewhere in the apartment my phone was ringing, _did I plug it in last night after I spoke to Ranger?_ I couldn't remember. I let it ring.

The shower helped some, my eyes at least no longer felt like they were on fire when I stepped out of the shower into the steam filled room fifteen minutes later drying myself with a folded towel. I pressed the soft piled cotton to my nose and inhaled inquisitively.

Okay, so _maybe_ I'd buy another one of those bag things from Vi.

I tossed the towel over the hook on the back of the door and exited the bathroom starting the Keurig and selecting the little plastic cup of Boston Crème flavored coffee I dropped it into the top and stuffed my tumbler under it so it would be ready to brew when the water was hot. It beeped a second later so I hit the brew button and went to throw on gym clothes.

I'd just gotten my sneakers on my feet when I heard the soft intermittent tone telling me I had a voice message. I got up and went to my night stand and grabbed my phone, it had half a charge because—No I hadn't remembered to plug it in last night after talking to Ranger. The screen was informing me I had two new voice messages, and three missed calls all from an unknown number. I sighed and hit the button to play my messages.

"Stephanie, it's your Mother…" Beep. I hit the button to skip that one sighing, must have been left over from last week.

"Next Message." The computerized voice informed me.

"Hi Steph, it's Alex. I missed you the rest of the weekend I guess—You're Mom said they needed you to go back early. I had a great time at dinner, you're so beautiful—I was wondering if you had any plans for Labor day weekend? I was thinking maybe Atlantic City, you and me, condo on the beach—If they can live without you for a few days that is…Call me back."

My eyes glazed staring at the wall. _Atlantic City? Seriously? After One date?_ Joe never took me away for the weekend—even after three years! Ranger took me places…but that didn't count since it was usually work related right? I couldn't decide if the offer was creepy weird, or just enthusiastically pursuing my company….My dating experience hasn't been the most extensive, or normal. Maybe I should call Mary Lou and get a second opinion.

I hit the button to save the message when the lady prompted me to do something other than stand there.

"Next Message."

"It's Davis. I had the item picked up from Tamsin and processed first thing this morning; and just wanted to let you know we didn't find anything. No finger prints that match anyone in our local database for the last six months system—and the flower shop said the person who came in and placed the order paid cash for the delivery and had them print the card. The clerk said with a printed card he would have never actually touched it—and he couldn't remember anything useful about the guy who came in, we're going to keep digging just in case. In the meantime, keep doing what you're doing—but It's probably nothing. To my knowledge none of the other girls got gifts before their murders."

 _Well Gee, that made me feel so much better. Not_. I blew out a frustrated sigh and hung up tossing my phone into my bag and grabbing my coffee. Probably I should call Davis back at some point and ask him about the W-2 thing Ranger had mentioned. I'd hate to get done with this and find out that the money I'd been saving for a rainy day or for a nicer apartment needed to go towards unpaid taxes!

I had no idea what to do about the other call. _Alex._ I didn't even know how I felt about him. Mostly nothing I realized. Not exactly a rousing endorsement, there was just so much other shit on my plate right now; maybe when this was all over I'd give him a shot. Joe and I were done, maybe it was time to try moving on. Ranger was never going to want me the way I wanted him…

I reached the studio in time for my private session with Christy and then the advanced pole class started immediately after that keeping most of my morning and early afternoon busy. Tams made it into the studio as class was ending carrying sub sandwiches for lunch, they had more veggies then I would have picked for myself but the flavor was good and I figured if I had to eat a salad it might as well be squished between layers of deli meat and crusty bread. After eating only a quarter of the sub—I didn't want to puke bending over or standing on my head, we got down to business working out a new routine for the song I'd picked. The whole time I kept getting the niggling feeling that someone was watching me. I figured it was just left over nerves from last week, the nightmares last night which had been particularly horrible, and over active imagination. Still, I couldn't shake it.

"Hey!" Tams barked after about thirty minutes of having to repeat things to me.

"What?"

"I said use your elbow instead for that grip…are you okay?" She was studying my face again like she had the other day. Maybe waiting for me to burst into tears or hyperventilate, something; I don't know.

"Yeah," I sighed dropping to my feet and scrubbing at my face with my hands. "I'm just tired—having some trouble sleeping."

Tams nodded the lines around her eyes tight. "There's a lot of that going around."

Somehow the company made me feel better.

.

* * *

.

"Hey Baby! You know you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen?!"

 _How original._ I resisted the urge to roll my eyes for the hundredth time tonight working my way around the room. At least he didn't ask if it 'hurt when I fell from heaven'. I dropped a hand to his arm for a split second, "You're sweet!"

He grinned up at me swaying slightly and handed me a ten dollar bill, I flashed him a smile. Then I moved on before he could construe our brief exchange as permission to touch me—some of the girls; like Sara, would sit with regulars and could even talk to them, but I found that sitting next to one of them invited too much touching—and that bothered me, these weren't my friends, or people I trusted. They were sexually preoccupied strangers who paid to come in here and watch women dressed in little more than bikinis preform athletic dances that involved a lot of splits and suggestive hip rolls.

Men might think of sex occasionally, or if they're like Joe—pretty much 24/7, but these guys were here because just thinking about it wasn't enough, they wanted to look at it, imagine what it would be like to take one of us home.

"They're paying for the fantasy," Tamsin told me when I first started, I'd heard her repeat the exact words more than once since starting here. "Play along, but only to a point—give them a smile, a little wink and then move on, don't get trapped in one place. If you do get one of the bouncer's attention quick."

Sex wasn't for sale at Dom's—not physically at least. But that didn't mean that when I walked by on the club floor I didn't feel them sizing me up like a piece of meat. "They're going to size you up standing on the street," Tamsin had pointed out, "And in line at the grocery store, you might as well get paid for it." Getting paid for the fantasy was okay I guess, having them try to get me interested in making their little fantasy a reality was _not_. I'd been grabbed before by over enthusiastic guys and while it was usually rectified swiftly between the bouncers it was still annoying and sometimes a little unsettling. Some guys were really quick, and their hands could wander in the span of just a few short seconds.

Out of the corner of my eye the sound guy was trying to get my attention. I wove my way through the tables returning a few smiles when I made eye contact with someone until I reached his booth in the back. "What's up?"

"You sure about this song?"

I blew out a breath through my nose, Tamsin had asked me the exact same question. "Yes."

"Okay," he shrugged, "It's your tips. You're on after Sara."

"Kay," I glanced at the clock, 11:38pm. I had time to call now before we got busy later and I lost any chance to sneak away and call. I did not want to keep Ranger awake all night, _again_. It wasn't like he could do anything for me all the way in Trenton if there _was_ a problem, I was two hours away!

I went to the locker room and grabbed my cellphone from my bag—only 19% battery. I should have plugged it in after class or remembered my cord. I moved into the bathroom but I could still hear the bass through the wall behind me, it wasn't much more quiet then the locker room—and if anyone opened the door it would be very obvious that I wasn't at home. This would only work if Ranger thought I was actually home for the night.

I'd have to go outside, I realized biting my lip. If I just stood right by the front door it was on a main street and well lit, that should be fine right? It wasn't a back alley, where no one was walking by…I moved back through the main room keeping my cell phone in my palm trying not to make it obvious to anyone watching me. We weren't supposed to make personal phone calls unless we were on break, but since I didn't smoke I didn't really _get_ breaks.

I pushed through the front door into the little lobby area in the front of the building that kept people on the street and those who hadn't paid yet from watching for free. Robbie was visible through the glass half window sitting on a low-back stool. He looked bored as hell waiting for guys to come in so he could collect twenty bucks and check their ID's. I gave him a little wave with the hand holding my phone and he said nothing so I went out the front door and moved to lean against the brick wall just behind the door breathing in the cool air and watching the light mist fogging the air around the street lamps.

I kept my back to the building front so I could avoid getting wet under the buildings narrow awning. A few people walking down the street gave me appreciative or annoyed looks as I hit speed dial before I could chicken out.

The phone rang three times and then went to voicemail. _Shit. Now what?_ _Did I leave a message, or just call later—if I didn't say something at least Ranger might flip out._

I realized the beep must have already sounded and I'd yet to say anything, _double shit_. _How long had it been, maybe I could just wait until the recording stopped and hit the number to record over again?_

"Hey! There you are, I need you inside right now!"

I snapped my head around and realized Hue, had come out the front door and was waving me inside with one hand. I held up my finger trying to tell him I'd be just a minute but his expression didn't change, if anything it darkened further. "Inside, Now." I squeaked in surprise when he reached over and grabbed my arm hauling me through the door, my elbow bumped the door on the way in and my fingers sprung open with the shock of the impact. I watched my phone start to drop with a sharp gasp and a "No!" snatching for it with my free hand, but it was too late, I was never that lucky or coordinated. It bounced on its corner against the sidewalk and the back of the case immediately popped off on impact sending the battery sliding out onto the wet sidewalk.

Hue sighed, bent over and picked up the battery and phone pieces stuffing them back in my hands and pushed me through the front door into the lobby with a loud huff. I tried fumbling with the battery but I couldn't figure out how it went back in—I couldn't get it lined up no matter how I turned it, not that it mattered now. Ranger was definitely going to get a message where I said nothing. _Ugh_. I had to call him back before he got it and thought something had happened to me. I just prayed my phone wasn't broken when I got the battery back in it finally!

Hue held out his hand with a grunted "Give it here," and I slapped the hopeless phone and battery into his ham sized hand. He pinched the battery between his fingers and stared at it for a second then slid it back into the phone effortlessly and snapped the back casing onto it with an audible snapped click. He held it out to me still powered off.

"You're not supposed to be outside, 'S not safe." He growled down at me as I took it from his hand. He kind of reminded me of Cal, minus the flaming forehead tattoo.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Sorry don't help either of us if you're dead." He pointed out grumpily then turned and shot a pissy look at Robbie through the plexi-glass over his shoulder. Robbie shrugged and went back to ignoring us.

Hue shook his head and moved us away from the front door and Robbie's window—closer to the door of the actual club. I could feel the base in the floor again right through my shoes.

"Robbie might not give a shit about anyone else's wellbeing—but I do." He grumbled still glaring down at me. "I can't believe what happened last week, but it ain't happening here—not on my watch." He rumbled. "You got that?" He let out an audible breath and his nostrils flared like a bull.

I hadn't realized Hue cared what happened to any of us. But I guess that was stupid and shallow of me, he was a coworker, and he saw us every day—protected us every day. It was his job and he took it more seriously than most.

"You're right, I'm sorry—it's just, my Mom. She heard what happened and she wants me to call her so she knows I'm safe." It seemed like a better excuse then ' _my guy friend who's really over protective that I'm kind of in love with, but he doesn't do relationships-he wants to help me, and loan me cars and his apartment and tells people I'm his woman…even though were not together because he doesn't want to be, so I won't let him help me because then I feel like a mooch, and a drain on his life. So now he wants me to check in every night even though he can't do anything for me because he's hours away…_ '

I pulled in a deep breath and let it out. _Yeah. No way was I explaining that mess, to anyone._ _I didn't even understand it myself._

"I get that," Hue said reasonably. "I got a mother."

I blinked up at him trying to picture that and struggling. It was like trying to picture Tank with a mother—I knew he must have one, somewhere. It wasn't like he just sprang from the ethers…it just seemed that way.

"I gotta smoke break at midnight, you can go outside with me then if you want and call—as long as we don't get slammed and you're not on stage." He added. I leaned up on my toes and brushed a kiss over his cheek making him blush scarlet and grumble.

"Thanks Hue,"

"Get on stage, Oscar says you're up."

.

* * *

.

 **to be continued...**

 **.**

 **Oh Dear, Nothing could possibly be misinterpreted from that abbreviated message she left right?**

 **Who think's Ranger's going to shit a brick?! ;)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** Not mine in any way shape or form, which is sad because I let them out to party!

 **Notes:** This one was a PITA to write. Huge thanks to the supporters out there who helped me out with the feedback I needed to tweak this chapter!

JackAttack1 and Ade321 you two are awesome! Thank you, Thank you!

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

 _Shit. Fuck._

It was 12:57 and I hadn't had a chance to re-dial Ranger yet.

In fact my phone was still powered off in my locker where I'd thrown it before rushing out to do my set earlier. I hadn't found time to sneak back off the main floor to turn it on and call Ranger again, or even send a text message after I'd been on stage. I went through my two song routine and despite Tamsin and Oscar's questioning my song choice I'd had a lot of attention since my last rotation. We'd also had about ten more people come in dressed in button up shirts and loosened ties since then and they were spending a lot of money on drinks and tips, Dom wanted everyone not on stage available to talk to the guys and keep them spending.

It took me thirty minutes to get off the floor, and then when I was almost to the locker room Alicia had grabbed me and forced me to go and sit with her to talk to some new guy who could barely make eye contact with me. He was sweet and any other time I wouldn't have minded but I didn't have time to deal with him right now! I extracted myself as fast as I could trying to be at least polite about it since Alicia said he'd asked about me specifically after my routine, it wasn't his fault I needed to call Ranger back before he got my message and took my silence the wrong way!

I could only pray to the Gods of luck and long stakeouts without signal that maybe Ranger hadn't checked his voice messages yet or I could be in serious trouble. I wasn't positive he wouldn't be flying towards New York right now in his Porsche trailed by a fleet of black SUV's—probably breaking land speed records and dialing me repeatedly with one hand cursing the fact that my phone wasn't on.

I yanked open my locker and grabbed my phone chanting _come on, come on,_ as I hit the power button and then had to wait the agonizing full minute for the little rectangle disk in my hand to spring to life.

 _Please don't have a missed call_ …

I let out a deep breath when the home screen popped up; seemingly without an alert. Ranger always had his phone on him—even if he couldn't answer it at that moment, it didn't take him long to respond back in my experience—unless he was in the wind or on a takedown I could usually bet on a response in thirty minutes or less; even if it was just an annoying text message saying, _Babe_. To not have any response from him after this long was both upsetting and relieving all at once. I stood there staring at the home screen battling conflicting emotions. Maybe he was sleeping now because he wasn't expecting my phone call until 3am like the previous night's so he'd missed my blank voicemail all together and I still had time. I'd just shoot him a quick explanatory text and he'd get it when he woke up and then I'd call him at two before I left.

The phone beeped in my hand and my stomach plummeted.

 _Clearly the Gods of fate hate me_.

The little indicator light at the top of the screen flashed furiously at me as each new alert box popped up on the screen as the phone apparently finished connecting to satellites and downloading the shit storm I now found myself in.

(12 Missed Calls)

(3 New Voice Messages)

(5 New Text Messages)

 _Fuck_. I dropped onto the bench and tried to remember how to breathe. _Great_. _Okay, no big deal, I could play this off._

I swiped the screen and pulled up the text messages instead of voicemails figuring those would be easier to respond to now, praying ardently that they wouldn't be that bad.

 **Ranger:** Finishing a takedown. Early night? Call you in ten **. 12:02am**

 **Ranger:** Answer the phone Stephanie. **12:16am**

 **Ranger:** I got your message. Are you in trouble? Call me Now. **12:18am**

 **Ranger:** Steph I need you to answer me. **12:21am**

 **Ranger:** Babe, Please call me. **12:37am**

 _Oh Crap._ Guilt clawed at me, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what the voice messages he'd left said.I could only imagine how pissed off he was with me right now _… It's okay, deep breath, I could still play this off._ I took a calming deep breath and started typing then hit send.

 **Sorry! I must have butt-dialed you and didn't realize it! I'm at work, call you later.**

I kept staring at my phone, counting the seconds in my head praying I'd get a 'Ok' or a 'Babe' in return. I got to three before the phone started trilling in my hand and RANGER lit up the screen. I bit my lip and hit the _REJECT_ button. The bass was so loud I wouldn't be able to hear anything and any second now someone else could come back here to get ready for their set, I didn't think I could hold a conversation with a snarling pissed off Ranger and keep one of the girls from eavesdropping, they were nosier then the housewives of the 'Burg half the time!

 **Ranger:** Answer the PHONE NOW! Popped up on my New Text screen nanoseconds later. _Yikes, Batman was using capital letters!_

 **Can't still at work.** I hit send ready to stuff the phone into my locker when it rang again, I hit _REJECT_ and it beeped again twice in succession, the little trill giving off an aggressive air I'd never noticed before...

 _Maybe it was the fact that I was visualizing Ranger's un-happy face as I heard it, the one that made cops cower and gang-bangers piss their pants._

 **Ranger:** Stephanie!

 **Ranger:** If you don't call me right NOW I'm coming to New York, TONIGHT.

 _Shit_. I hit speed dial and didn't even have the phone pressed to my ear before he answered.

"Stephanie." I could hear him exhaling like he'd been sprinting a marathon. I tried to cup my hand around the receiver to muffle the noise of the club coming through the wall.

"I'm Fine Ranger! It was an accident!"

"Why didn't you answer the phone?" He bit out ignoring my response.

"It was in my locker! I didn't have it on me."

"No room for it in your uniform I guess." His tone was colder than ice, I found myself gaping for a moment like a fish struggling for air. I rarely heard Ranger speak like that, and never when he was talking to me. I felt like he'd punched me in the gut.

"We're not allowed to have our phones out at work…"

"I'll bet."

 _What the actual Fuck?_ I blinked back tears. "Ranger, I know I left you a weird message—"

"A weird Message? Weird Babe?! _Weird_?! You left me a Fucking Heart Attack!"

 _What?_ "ranger—"

"No! I get a message with some asshole barking orders at you, you shriek 'No!' and then the line goes dead! Your GPS went offline; which means the phone is off or broken and it stayed that way for 75 Minutes! 75 Minutes Stephanie! Do you know what I was thinking? What's been Running through my mind the last hour and fifteen minutes!? Fuck Babe, Do you have _any_ idea what could have happened to you in that amount of Time?!"

I was speechless, mouth hanging open and knots twisting my insides. I've had Joe scream at me before, more times than I could count, and I was able to brush it off for the most part….so why did it feel like my world was ending? "But...you have other trackers in my bag…" I was positive he did after my visit to Haywood. I didn't even have to look to know there would be at least one in there, I wasn't stupid.

"Yes." Ranger snapped. "I was sure they'd make locating your BODY so much easier."

Shit. _Ranger thought I was dead?_

"Yeah Babe, I thought you were kidnapped, or dead or being raped…" He dissolved into a string of Spanish that could only be profanity.

I was suddenly _really_ glad I _Didn't_ speak Spanish, I was dangerously close to tears as it was, "I'm sorry…I went outside to call you and one of the bouncers told me to come back in…"

"So you lied to me. Do they _Normally_ talk to you like that? Put their hands on you?"

"What? No! Hue is a nice guy!"

"Yeah, He sounded Great." Ranger growled in my ear.

"I wasn't supposed to go outside—"

"Then why _did_ you?"

"To call you!"

"Is something wrong?"

"No!"

"Then why were you calling me from work?" His tone was completely neutral suddenly and I could just picture the blank mask that went with it.

"I jus…I was…"

"You were _just_ _what_ Stephanie?" Ranger pressed.

I sucked in air and blew it out. "I was worried about keeping you up all night, so I was calling early so you'd go to bed and not worry about me."

He was silent for a beat. "I told you not to worry about that."

"Yeah well I can't help it."

"When does your shift end?"

"What, Why? _Oh my God_ you're driving to New York!"

Ranger blew out a breath. "Not currently. I'm sitting on the side of 95 North with four Rangeman vehicles parked behind me."

"So you were coming to New York?"

"Yes, I was."

With half of Rangman's fleet I realized capturing my bottom lip with my teeth. "...But you're not now?"

"Do you want me in New York?"

 _Yes, more than anything…but then I'd be dragging him into my mess, yet again_. My eyes prickled and my chest constricted like a rubber band. "No, it's okay; I'm fine."

Ranger was silent, maybe waiting for me to say something else, maybe he hung up on me for being utterly hopeless. "Call me tonight _after_ you get home. I don't care what time it is." He used the same tone on his men before a takedown.

"Okay,"

"Promise me Stephanie." His voice still had a hard edge.

"Okay, I promise,"

He blew out an audible exhale again and then hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand biting my lip.

"Everything okay?"

I nearly dropped the phone again. " _Shit_! Jesus Christ Tamsin!"

"Who was that?"

"Uh, No one Important."

One eyebrow shot north. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Are you sure, because it didn't sound fine, it sounded like a fight."

 _Was it a fight?_ "No, it's okay, he's just worried."

"Who's ' _he_ '; Your Boyfriend from back home?"

"No." I turned the volume off on my phone and practically threw the blasted thing into my locker on top of my bag. "Not my boyfriend." I added emphatically.

"Well it's sure as hell not Davis, I just got off the phone with him ten minutes ago." Her eyes narrowed. "And he doesn't put trackers in your bag."

 _Okay, I guess she'd been standing there a while._

"Do I need to worry about some jealous hot head showing up here and trying to knock the customers teeth out? Because that's not going to work Jersey, not for Dom, and not for Davis or this case. If this is going to be a problem I need to know about it _Now_ , we've both worked too damn long and hard to get to this point."

"It's not like that." All the times Ranger had sent me on distraction jobs, I doubt he cared that I was wearing a bathing suit in a bar. He wasn't coming to New York, and I couldn't see him punching people in the face if he did show up. He'd probably just scowl and sit in a corner booth glaring daggers at the whole room and giving Hue or Buck an ass cramp wondering if they should throw him out.

Tams crossed her arms over her chest leaned against the opposite locker wall and gave me a stern look. "You want to explain to me what it IS like then?"

I blew out in a huff lifting my bangs around my face. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know."

.

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** So not mine, but a girl can dream right? Mmm Dream Ranger... *drools*

 **Notes:** Huge thanks to all the readers and reviewers you guys are amazing, I cherish every story hit and reviews make me dance around like a drunk Stephanie when only Rex is around to see... :)

Long Chapter for the weekend! If I wrote this chapter correctly during the first half you should all jump out of your chairs screaming at your computers and flailing your arms around freaking out, and the second half should have you jumping up and down for another reason entirely... I'm sure you'll let me know if I did it right! ; )

* * *

 **Also, Happy April Fools day to all the Lester Santos's out there, and yes you read thuat word count jump correctly, this chapter is 8,000+ words.**

 **No joke! ; )**

* * *

 **Chapter twenty-three**

* * *

By 2:57am I was tugging my knee high boots on over the calves of the skinny jeans Ella had bought me when the locker room door opened and Hue poked his bowling ball sized head inside clearly looking for me. "Michelle, your taxi is out front."

"Okay," I grabbed my bag, tossed my cell phone inside and followed him out of the locker room and around the far side of the room, so we cut in front of as few customers and their views of the stage as possible. We stepped outside and I felt the damp chill instantly leech some of the heat from my skin. I tugged on the sleeves of my yoga jacket transferring my shoulder bag from one side to the other and zipping it up. If I was here another month I was going to need a heavier coat, Trenton isn't that far from New York but somehow it already felt worlds colder here.

"You never did get a chance to call your mom back did you?" Hue asked suddenly holding the taxi door open and staring down at me.

"What?" it took me a few seconds, to make the connection, "Oh, no. But I sent her a text so it's okay."

He nodded shuffling back on the sidewalk still holding the door in one hand so I could climb inside. "You on tomorrow?"

"Nope, off." Looking forward to it too, after class I was going to Central Park. I'd made the decision after hearing Becca rave about how beautiful the leaves were that I was going to see some of the sites while I was here. Hue nodded solemnly and shut the door and closing me in the taxi's dark interior before rapping on the top of the cab with his knuckles as he stepped back.

"Address Sweetness?" The shadowed guy on the other side of the warped plexi-glass inquired as Hue disappeared back inside the club to finish his night. I gave him my street and building number watching the outline of his shaggy head bob in the low light indicating he knew where he was going.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as we pulled away from the curb and into the barely existent traffic in this part of town at this hour wondering if I should just call Ranger now. My battery had been so low earlier I didn't want it to die while we were talking. I was afraid if that happened Ranger might have an honest to God aneurysm. The trip should only take twenty minutes by Taxi without traffic, I was so ready to be home, I'd make a quick call to Ranger, take a hot shower and go to bed—hopefully tonight I wouldn't have nightmares and I'd actually get some restful sleep. I'd had all the nightmares I could take.

The prickling feeling of being watched crawled over my skin as we moved down the street forcing my eyes open to stare at the dingy cab roof in the dark. I glanced down my nose trying to be subtle and met the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror for an awkward second that seemed to stretch on before his gaze jerked back to the road. I probably shouldn't fall asleep back here or he might be tempted to drive around a few extra blocks to up the charge. I couldn't imagine an overnight cabbie, even in a city this size, had much call for pick-ups he was probably hoping I'd fall asleep so he could pad his check.

He was looking at me again, I shifted in my seat pulling my bag into my lap and adjusting the strap over my head before trying to focus out the window and ignore the prolonged stares he kept shooting me.

Four blocks later I could still feel his eyes on me and I was not only firmly creeped out, I was starting to get annoyed. "Can I help you with something?" I hoped to God he didn't recognize me from those stupid Bombshell bounty hunter articles, that was the last thing I needed!

"I don't get to pick up many strippers." His voice was two pack a day rough and he was staring at me in the rear-view mirror again like he'd found a half-naked underwear model in his back seat.

 _Great. Just my luck I'd get a pervert Taxi driver to end my fabulous night._ "I'm not a stripper," I pointed out, knowing he probably didn't understand the distinction between pole dancing and stripping—and I seriously doubted he cared. The sleaze-ball was probably trying to picture me without clothes on.

We turned right instead of going straight at the next cross street and I turned my head to read the street sign we whizzed past, fear spiking fast and hard through my gut like a lightning bolt.

"Where are you going? My street is that way."I pointed out he _was_ taking me for a ride hoping I didn't notice or know my way around so he could up the fare…

"Relax Sweetness, there's an accident on 31st, just going around it."

"An accident at 3 am?" His eyes stayed on the road now and he said nothing only increasing my heart were barely any cars on the road. I mean it was possible but the crawling prickle against the back of my neck like spiders racing over my skin every time he glanced at me in the rearview mirror told me differently. A flock of birds settled in my stomach, fluttering anxiously.

"Can you take a left here please?" I leaned forward in the seat and tried to indicate the next cross street that would take us back towards a slightly better neighborhood. Our current path was starting to look frighteningly like New York's version of Stark Street. A meaner version of Stark Street; and nothing good _Ever_ happened on Stark Street.

 _Don't panic, Stephanie. Not yet…_

"No, that road's no good—you just sit back and relax Darlin' enjoy the ride."

The birds had claws now, and sharp peaks—they beat at my insides, twisting and writhing in distress. My palms started to sweat, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I peered through the dingy, scratched plexi-glass at the center console and realized the meter was off.

My Dad's advice on the train platform slid through my mind and the rush of fear cut through me like a knife.

"Hey," I heard myself say calmly rapping on the glass. "Your meter is off." It was almost certainly a mistake, he just forgot—he'd turn it on and we'd take the next cross street going East and I'd laugh this off later when I was safely back home in my apartment behind the security of my locked door.

He glanced at me in the mirror again, and the side of his cheek twitched in a leering, humorless smile. "Don't worry Baby, you can ride for free."

 _Get out of the car Stephanie!_

"Pull over!" Somehow my voice wasn't shaking, but my insides were a quivering mess. "I mean it, Pull over Right NOW!"

"Not yet Baby Soon, we're almost there." He crooned from the front seat chuckling to himself and caressing the steering wheel with his hands.

"Pull this Fucking Car Over or I'm Calling the Cops!" I ordered pounding my fist against the divider hard enough to rattle it on it's bolts.

"Come on, You don't need to do that! I've been working hard all day, I'm a paying customer, See?" he held up a rolled twenty in two blunt ended fingers and I fought the urge to vomit. "You do a good job I'll give you a big tip." He leered in the mirror and I highly doubted he was talking about the monetary kind.

"I'm not a Prostitute you Jackass!"

I grabbed the door handle jerking it up frantically even though we were still cruising down the deserted lightless street going at least thirty miles an hour. I didn't think I could throw myself from a moving vehicle at this speed and still run away—but it was a moot point since nothing happened.

"I'm calling the cops!" I yanked open the flap on my messenger bag and started searching for my cellphone in the depths, hoping the threat would force him to stop.

"Damn Baby, Calm down! There's no need to be like that, besides we both know this time of night, in this part of town; nobody's gonna show up before we're through."

 _Oh shit. Oh shit._ I banged on the glass with my fist, then leaned back onto the seat and slammed my booted feet into the window screaming at the top of my lungs, my heart was in my throat the flock of birds had morphed to monsters clawing and scraping, offering up a horrific kaleidoscope of sickening images from TV, slasher movies and finding Lula on my fire escape…

"Let me OUT!"

The car screeched to a halt so fast I slid off the seat and onto the carpeted floor below that smelled like vomit cleaner, mildew and old shoes. I scrambled with elbows and hands, and feet trying to pull myself up and onto the bench. I put my hand on the seat back to pull myself up and realized I could see the white knuckles of my grip, the dome light in the roof was on.

His door slammed shut and I jerked around to see him skipping around the front of the hood heading towards my door.

 _Oh God, Oh God, Ranger…_ I grappled frantically inside my purse trying to find my cellphone as he yanked my door open grabbing for one of my instantaneously flailing legs, I aimed my kicks at his grabbing hands, his chest, his arms, his face anything I could reach. Trying to deter him, maybe if I put up a hard enough fight he'd realize I wasn't worth the effort and let me go…I managed to nail him in the chest with the heel of my boot and he cursed at me grabbing my other leg and wrenching me down the seat so my ass was hanging over empty air. I gripped the seatback with one hand and fought to pull myself back inside when just moments ago I'd been screaming to get out.

"God Damnit! Fucking Bitch come here!"

 _Ranger was never going to get here in time—the cops would never get here in time…_ a hysterical sob tore from my throat and the hand still trapped inside my purse struck something sharp. I closed my fingers over it in reflex.

My keys.

 _Fight back God Damnit! Don't just give up and let this happen!_

I lurched up as he yanked me further out the door calling on every abdominal muscle I'd strengthened over the last four months and every ounce of adrenaline fueled panic in my body, my feet hit pavement giving me leverage and I jerked up smashing my head into his nose so hard I saw stars.

He bellowed and flew backwards a step racking the back of his head on the roof of the cab with an audible thump! He cursed grasping at the blood dripping from his face his eyes narrowed and furious.

 _Keep fighting! Fight Dirty! Do something, Anything!_ _Do it now!_ I shoved him back from me lashing out with my legs, and fists screaming at the top of my lungs hoping someone might hear and do something.

He charged me again grabbing a handful of my curls yanking them so hard I was certain I'd have a bald spot the size of his fist if I lived to see it. I fumbled with the keys in my hand pushing at him with my other arm and kicking blindly at him with one leg trying to catch his knee, his crotch—anything to make him let me go. My hand finally closed around the cold cylinder attached to my key ring.

 _God Bless Dominick!_

I yanked my arm out of my purse as he hauled me out of the backseat by my hair pure fury radiating from him while his mouth boiled over with an endless string of obscenities.

My feet stumbled under me, my back slammed into the cab's quarter panel hard enough to dent us both; I hissed at the sharp jolt of pain but I kept my hand closed tightly, knowing if I dropped it I'd probably never get another chance. I grabbed the side of his head with my free hand and clapped the little plastic funnel against his left ear with my other hand mashing the little rubber button on top with all my might and praying to God it didn't malfunction.

It Didn't.

I flinched and recoiled even anticipating the sound; expectation paled to reality. The cabbie screamed in agony and jerked out of my grasp violently letting me go in the same instant, completely forgetting our struggle in his desperation to escape the air horn that had probably just shattered his eardrum. He might have been cursing, my head was ringing so badly from the sound I couldn't tell. I didn't wait to see if he'd regroup, taking the few feet between us and his bent over posture looking like he was going to vomit onto the street I bolted away from him racing to put as much distance between us as possible.

I could feel the pounding of my feet on the street through the soles of my boots reverberating up my legs with each step I took; but I couldn't hear it—I couldn't hear much of anything which made me push to run faster then I think I've ever run in my life. I was pumping my arms like I'd seen Ranger and Bobby do right before they tackled someone to the ground during a takedown. I was breathing like a freight train, trying not to picture him coming up behind me and tackling me the same way.

 _Just keep Running Steph, Don't look back!_

I was afraid if I did I'd trip over my own feet and break my neck or worse he really would be right behind me. I was coming up on a cross street and I bolted up it, running for all I was worth, away from the tracks, away from the cab and what might have been the scene of my murder—or at the very least rape.

Hysteria bubbled up choking my lungs and I gasped fighting the stabbing pains under my ribs and the dizziness from panic and lack of oxygen. _Breathe Steph! Breathe!_ But I couldn't it was like running through a nightmare, a vacuum—a cold dark empty void I couldn't escape no matter how many times my feet pushed off the pavement and how many boarded up store fronts or buildings I flew past.

I made it three more blocks and back to an area with a decent amount of vehicle traffic on the street before I tripped catching my toe on an uneven edge of sidewalk, crashing to the ground so hard I think I bounced. I jerked up ignoring the fire in my palms, and my right knee and glanced behind me at the empty street.

No taxi cab, no headlights. Just the looming menace of pressing darkness hinting at horrific events I'd narrowly escaped that made me want to hurl myself into the street in front of the next passing taxi and beg them to stop…

 _Yes, that's it; get into another taxi Stephanie..._

Hysteria bubbled up briefly and I started laughing, running trembling road rashed palms over my face before stopping to stare at my skin. I swiped the inside elbows of my jacket against my cheeks hoping I hadn't just smeared myself with noticeable blood.

 _Maybe I could flag down another taxi. What were the odds that all the taxi drivers out to night are homicidal rapists?_

I gulped for air shuddering and started limping along the street grasping my side trying to ignore the stabbing hitch there. I needed a subway station, if I could just find a subway station I could get myself home. I clutched my purse in one hand grateful it had been around my body and I hadn't lost it in my flight. I approached a cross street and stared at the name.

 _Shit,_ the problem was I never walked in this part of the city. I didn't know where the next closest subway station was—and that meant I could stumble along at 3-something in the morning for blocks and blocks missing several platforms because I was one street to high or low. I reached into my bag rummaging through the bottom praying it hadn't fallen out when I hit the floor or during our struggle—if it was sitting on the floor boards he'd probably toss it in a dumpster or hawk it for ten bucks—and neither would help me.

Finally I found it exhaling in a rush of relief I pulled it from the depths of my bag still trying to walk stiffly in the direction I needed to go. I glanced at the screen my battery was only at 15%. There are plenty of apps you could download that would tell you where you were and how to find subway stations closest to you—but I'd have to download one, and then run it, and I didn't think I had enough battery to manage that right now.

I needed to call someone who I knew was in front of a computer at—I glanced at the clock, 3:21am. Ranger was probably in the gym since that was where he'd been the last two nights at least…I mean, I _hoped_ when I'd called him that second night that's what he'd been doing instead of…instead of having sex. It cramped my stomach even now. Not that it was any of my business if he was, I reminded myself miserably trying to focus on the problem at hand. He could _go_ to a computer when he answered, but it would be faster to call someone I knew was staring at one _right now_ , whoever it was.

I punched the button and raised the volume up as high as it would go, crossing mental fingers that I'd actually be able to hear who ever answered the phone or this was pointless anyway.

"Rangeman Trenton, This is Ram." I had to strain to hear him—but I could! Thank God, even if his voice had a far-away quality to it.

"Ram! I need a subway station near…" I hobbled closer to the corner biting my lip to keep from crying out, my back was throbbing and so was my knee, and my scalp now that I was thinking about it—along with half of my body. _Shit, good thing I was off tomorrow; I'd be hitting up the Tylenol and a bag of ice like a crippled old lady_. "…Britton and Gleane." I read finally able to see both names.

"Stephanie?"

I didn't have time to play twenty questions, if my phone died I'd be screwed. Time to channel my inner Ranger and apologize the next time I saw him. "Now Ram!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" He barked, and then to someone else shouted, "Get Ranger up here _Double Time!"_ Then he seemed to be talking to me again because he said, "I'm pulling it up now, you said Britain and Glen?"

"There's a lot of streets in New York, maybe I should spell it." I pointed out staring at the sign.

"When you're ready," Ram said.

Okay, "Boy, Red, Indian, Train, Train, Onion, Nancy." _I felt like an idiot. Why did I never learn that military phonetic alphabet thing the guys always used?_

"Because you've never needed it before?" Ram pointed out reasonably.

"Right." I still felt like an idiot, but at least my hands weren't shaking as bad now.

"Next?" Ram prompted me sternly.

"Grover, Lady, Elephant, Apple, Nancy, Elephant." I spelled the second street and waited a pause for him to respond.

"Copy that, move north two blocks and east one. There's a station there." I guess barking orders at the guys sent them into military mode.

"Thank you!" I hope that made up for me being rude to him earlier. I started limping north as fast as I could now that I had a goal.

"Steph, what are you doing walking around in New York City at three thirty in the morning?"

"Long story Ram. Is Ranger there yet?"

"Any second now Bomber, I can hear boots."

 _At least somebody could…_

"Babe?" even muffled by my foggy ears his voice was a soothing balm against my frayed nerves, it also made me fervently wish that he was pulling up in his Porsche beside me instead of just on the phone, so he could wrap me in his arms and make me feel safe.

"Ranger, I'm okay…" I swallowed trying to ignore the lump wedged under my vocal cords at his voice. "I just…I have had one _fucking_ hell of a bad night."

"What happened?" Ranger prompted a little of his previous edge from our earlier conversation coming back.

"Oh you know work was long hours on my feet and then I accidently upset my best friend and made him really mad at me, scared the shit out of him apparently and I feel awful about it; and then to top it all off—When I'm trying to go home this fucking homicidal cabbie tries to abduct and rape me."

 _I was not sobbing. Nope. Not me._

 _I was a Jersey girl, we keep it together._

 _Unless of course you're all alone at three thirty am and you're seriously fucking freaked out. Then it's okay._

 _"Where…."_ I couldn't hear the rest of his sentence, he growled something else and either my hearing was getting worse or he'd covered the receiver with his hand. I opened my mouth to ask him to repeat what he'd said when he addressed me again. "Babe, I have your GPS and Tracker pulled up right now, keep going til you get to the subway. Give me your address and I can be in New York in a little over an hour."

"No, I'm okay," I fought back a sniff and wiped at my nose with the other sleeve.

"Babe, you were just assaulted!"

"I know! I hope that fucking bastard is deaf as a doorknob for the rest of his life!"

There was a pause. "You want to explain that statement?"

"He was trying to drag me out of the back seat, and I had one of those air horn key chain devices? So I put it right up against his ear and blasted the shit out of him."

"You probably busted his ear drum babe,"

"And his nose." I felt like I should gloat about that, at least a little—even if my head still ached and I'd probably sport one Hell of a bruise because of it.

"What happened to his nose?"

"I head butted it. And I kicked him in the shins, and the chest…and I screamed at him."

"I'm so proud of you babe. I'm sorry you had to go through that, it must have been very scary."

 _I bit my lip and waited for the cross walk to change before shuffling forward. "I was terrified…I was all alone there was no one around, I thought I was going to die."_

 _"Babe…" He said something else I couldn't catch._

 _"Ranger, I'm half deaf right now, you're going to have to repeat that."_

 _"I said, Let me come to New York. Please."_

 _Please,_ Ranger was pulling out the big guns. "It's not up to me Ranger,"

"Who is it up to, because I'll call them right now—someone is supposed to be watching your back, keeping you safe and they're not."

"Ranger, You of all people should know I'm a magnet for disaster! This wasn't Tamsin's fault, it was a taxi pick up for God sake! It could have been anyone!"

"I'll send a car to New York—"

"What so I can get car jacked at gun point, and where the Hell am I going to park it Ranger?" I couldn't help pointing out the obvious flaws in his plan, Hell a parking garage could cost him fifty bucks a day—and I'd STILL have to walk to my apartment from where ever it was!

"Stephanie, you need someone to watch your back—"

"I have someone! She just can't be with me twenty-four, seven!"

"That's unacceptable," Ranger growled.

"That's Reality!" I shot back feeling annoyance creep back in. "You don't always have someone to watch your back!" and if he dared to say he didn't need it because he was batman I was going to hang up on him.

"Babe, I have Tank."

"Not always, you go away and you leave him behind," Hell he'd just done exactly that for almost five months one of the longest stretches he'd ever been gone in my memory. Who was watching his back then?

"Stephanie, you know I can't discuss those things with you."

 _No, of course not. I mean, I **knew** that_. But it still felt like a slap to my raw nerves. It was unfair that I was expected to just lay my cards on the table while Ranger and everyone else played theirs close to the chest—and kept an ace up their sleeves! It rankled and stung my strung out emotions after the seriously shitty night I'd had.

"Well, there's some things that I can't discuss with you." It was out before I'd fully processed it, but now it was out there, and screw it—I wasn't taking it back. I was sick of this always get Stephanie to fold agenda.

My comment was met with silence as I turned East and finally spotted the Subway Entrance sign in green up ahead near the street. Ranger was still silent, I wondered if he'd hung up on me or if he was just waiting me out. Too bad, I was changing the subject—Ranger 101. "I'm almost to the subway now, I don't know if I can keep signal, and my phone is about to die—"

"Don't hang up."

"I've barely got 10% battery," I pointed out glancing at the screen before putting it back to my face.

"Stay on the phone as long as you can." There was a strange quality to his voice.

"And if I lose you?" I was going underground, into a metal tube—I'd probably drop the call immediately, and then with my luck? Promptly get mugged.

"Not gonna happen."

 _How could he sound so sure?_

"Because right now Babe, the universe wouldn't _dare_ fuck with me."

 _He did sound a little scary._

"Just a _little?"_ Ranger questioned.

"Yeah, I'm a tough New Yorker now. You thought the Jersey was bad, going to have to bring your _A Game_ if you want to scare me."

"Noted. Tell me when you're on the platform."

"I'm almost there now." I was trying not to grimace going down the stairs, glancing down at my stinging leg as I reached the bottom I realized I'd torn the knee out of my brand new jeans. "Damnit," I snarled wishing I could kick that asshole one more time for good measure.

"What?" Ranger demanded.

"I tore my jeans. I _liked_ these jeans!" Whatever Ella put in the wash made them butter soft even brand new—I was hoping to wear them a few more times before I had to get them laundered and they turned into regular old jeans again, now they were ruined!

"I'll bring you more jeans if you tell me where you live."

"Oh, Hardball." I teased him leaning tiredly against the tiled pillar to wait for the next train.

"Babe, you haven't _seen_ Hardball."

A bolt of heat shot right down my spine to my crotch momentarily stupefying my brain. I shook my head before I could start to drool. "And I'm not going to, because you're not coming!" I pointed out ignoring the very different flutters in my stomach at his tone. I bit my lip the second it was out, glad I wasn't carrying this conversation with Lester—no way would he let a comment like that pass without perverting it!

"Gotta come home eventually babe."

"Maybe." It was childish, but I suddenly felt like sticking my tongue out at him even if he was miles away and couldn't see it—somehow he'd still know. He's batman.

"You're not coming back to Jersey?" His tone had turned serious; all hint of playful Ranger was instantly gone.

"Not tonight." I pointed out feeling confused by the change. Talking to Ranger was enough to give a girl whiplash.

"Ever?" he pressed.

 _Ranger thought I might be leaving for good?_ And judging by his tone it bothered him, which was a seriously thought-provoking notion—one that might keep me up at night; if I wasn't so God Damn tired already.

"Not until this job is done." I pointed out seriously hoping to alleviate some of his stress. "I'm ' _in the wind'_ Ranger," I tried lightening the mood again throwing his own commonly used words back at him. "You're lucky I'm calling; I don't get calls from the Congo!"

"There's no signal in the Congo,"

 _There shouldn't be signal in the Subway either, yet here we were._ I guess even satellites in orbit feared Ranger's wrath tonight. The B train started pulling into the station and I hobbled closer to the line waiting for the doors to open so I could get on. "Trains here," I announced unnecessarily; he could probably hear it himself—nothing wrong with Ranger's hearing. _Ranger could hear partially formed thoughts._ It was one of the things that got me into serious trouble whenever he was around. _Serious_ trouble.

I slid through the doors onto one of the cars before they'd even completely opened and plopped boneless into a seat.

"Let's make a Deal," Ranger said the second I was seated clearly continuing on some previous venue of thought.

 _Oh, Boy. That_ got my attention—and my heart racing _._ I licked my lips subconsciously."What kind of Deal?" My voice was probably a little too breathless—I couldn't help it. Deals with Ranger were a whole different kind of Dangerous.

"You let me come to New York tonight, and the next time I'm _Not_ in the Congo I'll make sure you get notifications."

My brain went blank for a moment in shock and my stomach did a summersault. "You're going to call me while you're in the wind." I asked stupidly.

"If I can safely, if not you'll get updates as allowed."

 _That sounded…it sounded too good to be true, it hinted at some kind of permanence I didn't think we had…I shook it off in the next second before I could burst into song or grin like an idiot. Ha! No way._ _Ranger was clearly pulling my leg because no way was that happening! Not in my wildest dreams!_ "Nice try, but you have to bargain with real things! I don't have top secret-secret-secret clearance mister! Nobody's going to tell me jack!"

"They will if I list you as next-of-kin." He deadpanned making my heart stop.

"Who…who's next of kin now?" _I almost slapped myself; it_ was _probably his moaning girlfriend…_

"Tank."

"Oh." _Not_ his girlfriend then… _Probably Tank was a better choice though. Tank could actually do something if there was a problem—like deploy a helicopter, or a whole platoon, or hold a gun without hyperventilating…_

 _What the Hell could I do? Besides stand there and look stupid? Depressingly, Not much._

"You never look stupid babe, hot yes—tempting as Hell, yes. Stupid? Never, and no one would call you for an extraction team. It's not that kind of contact."

"What kind of contact is it?" I asked gripping the pole on the side of my bench as the train started to move so I wouldn't slide out of the seat and fall on the floor.

Ranger was either hesitating—or I'd lost him, the train was moving now.

"Ranger?"

"The kind that gives you death benefits and answers if something goes wrong."

 _Hooo-ly Shit!_ I opened my mouth, then closed it…and opened it again. "That's…" I blew out a breath searching for words, "…that's some serious hardball."

"Very serious."

"Are you still in the control room?"

"No, I took your call to my office."

 _That made sense_ , I couldn't see Ranger saying anything like this—even as a bargaining chip in front of the guys.

"I'll post it on the break room door if that's what it takes Stephanie."

"Out-loud?"

"Yeah babe, out loud."

"Too bad," I glanced at the clock on the rolling ticker-display announcing which station cross-street was coming up next.

"What is?"

"It's already 3:42 am, by the time you'd get here it would be morning and your deal is no good."

"I'd make the changes right now if it wouldn't delay me in getting there."

I couldn't tell if he was serious, he sounded serious. But he couldn't be—it just wasn't possible. Probably he'd make the changes until he had to leave again; then he'd change it back, just a quick swap of paperwork. That would make sense—he wasn't saying he'd leave me there _permanently_. I didn't know what that would mean—but I was pretty sure it would be big…like _huge_ , _colossal_ ; _life altering even_.

Everything Ranger's ever told me said he didn't _DO_ life-altering.

I pulled in a shaky breath and gripped the silver bar tighter in my hand.

"Say something babe, anything."

"It's not up to me."

"Not even for the night?"

"Day," I corrected half-heartedly. He'd get here just before the sun was coming up, even if he left right now. And I knew if he showed up, he probably wouldn't leave—not in a day, not in two—once he was here he'd find a way to stick around until I was through with this mess; which on the one hand sounded great, but on the other could catastrophically complicate what I was here to accomplish. Not to mention the devastation it would cause my heart when he went back to being strong, silent barely-there Ranger.

There was a low forlorn beep in my ear—I only made it out because of his silence. I pulled the phone away from my face to stare at the screen. 5% Battery. But I was only three stops away from my street now, I'd be there shortly. "Ranger, my phone is dying."

"Not yet,"

"It is, it will—I'm almost home now." If I could get home and plug it in I could call him back if that's really what he wanted.

"Don't hang up babe."

"Okay,"

"Will you come home this weekend?"

"Uh, no I have to work."

"So when is your next day off?"

"Today—well tonight, I guess actually."

"So you don't have to work tonight?"

"No. But I have class at 11 am."

"You're going to school?"

I almost snorted. "More like Boot camp, I have pole-dancing class."

"So you're getting home at 4am, and you have class at 11, and you were worried about me getting enough sleep? Babe, no wonder you're exhausted!"

"Normally it's fine. I just…I'm having a lot of trouble sleep lately."

"Why?"

My phone was beeping softly again I found myself praying it didn't die on me so I could keep talking to this strange version of Ranger.

"Why Stephanie?"

"I've been having nightmares, okay?"

"No, it's not okay; but it happens to all of us."

 _Yeah Right, like Ranger could be kept awake by something as trivial as bad dreams!_

"Babe, I'm just a man. A man that's seen and done some really horrible shit in the past; and is going to have to do it again in the future."

 _Now I felt terrible_. "I'm sorry Ranger, I didn't mean it like that…" I hadn't even meant to say it out loud, yet somehow around him my brain just seemed to completely fail me and every little thought just tumbled out of my mouth!

"It's okay Steph. I know you didn't mean anything bad by it. I want to be a superhero for you, anytime you need one—but I'm still human. Do you want to tell me about your dreams, maybe that will help?"

"No." I shook my head violently even though he couldn't see me. "I don't want to think about it."

"It might help Steph—"

"No, I think I'm okay. I'm so exhausted right now I'm pretty sure when I get home I'm just going to collapse." I was beyond dead tired thanks to lack of sleep, and the adrenaline let down of my earlier miss-adventure. I wasn't even positive I was going to bother showering first.

"How close are you to home?"

"This is my stop." I hoisted myself up and moved to the doors not wanting to do something silly like miss the chance to get off and end up riding Trains the rest of the night—no thanks.

"How far is it to your apartment?"

"Why, are you tracking my GPS signal to get my address?" I could just picture him sitting at his desk with my trackers pulled up.

"Babe I had your address before you left Trenton."

I paused on the platform just before the stairs. "What?!" I sputtered for a moment. "How? And why did you ask me to give it to you then?!"

"When I took your phone I was able to retrace GPS signals from your carrier in the last month and determine where you used the phone and the times of day—but that doesn't give me your exact apartment number just a building, a dance studio, and a club."

"Oh." _Sneaky Batman_. _Very_ Sneaky.

"…I wanted _you_ to give me the address because _you_ _want_ me there; not because I just charged in and left you no choice."

My stomach was fluttering again. "I _do_ want you here."

"But?" Ranger urged knowing despite my quiet admission what I am going to say.

"But it's not my choice." I whispered, unable to hear myself—but knowing he would.

Ranger growled through the phone. "Madre de Dios, I hate this. I have the same bad feeling I had during the slayer's nightmare, and I can't stop thinking about how that ended."

"Yeah, with an Uzi in a parking lot, and a bunch of dead guys." I started up the stairs only to stop short again clinging to the railing with white knuckles when he started speaking.

"I meant the way my heart stopped when I realized you not only left the building; but that they had you. Babe, I didn't know if I would get to you in time...the whole way there I kept seeing all these terrible images in my head, every horror I've ever seen mankind do to one another in the name of God or Country or greed…I pictured them happening to you if I couldn't save you first—I still have nightmares where I don't make it in time…years of combat and covert ops, all the God awful shit I've seen and done and that's the worst, hands down. Those dreams, nothing else compares to the horror of losing _you_."

 _Oh My God._ I almost sat down on the stairs. "How…how come you never said anything…and you sent me home with Morelli that night!" I'd been staying with him for days and even though the danger was over with the Slayers gang destroyed it had hurt to have him just hand me off. "Why Ranger?"

"Because I knew if I took you home with me, the panic I was feeling; even after I knew you were okay—I knew I'd do something idiotic for my own peace of mind. I'd lock you up and throw away the key so I'd never have to feel like that again. I'd do it to protect you, keep you safe; and you would _hate_ it, every minute of it. You'd hate me."

"I could never hate you Ranger, _never_."

"You sure babe?"

"Positive. I might not like what you're doing, or want to smack you sometimes when you act like a jerk, but I could never hate you." I couldn't think of a signal scenario where I might hate him, even a little bit—I was completely in love with him, sometimes I felt like my next breath hinged on his words, a look, a single touch; which was dangerous when he was likely to just walk away when he needed to and leave me shattered.

We were silent for a long time. I glanced at my phone again and then started up the stairs as fast as possible realizing if I didn't get home in the next few minutes I was definitely going to drop the call. I didn't know what this surreal talking spell was that had been cast over Ranger, but I knew I didn't want it to end. I was also so exhausted if I stood in the stairwell to the subway entrance any longer I would be tempted to lean my head against the wall and close my eyes. I've never to my knowledge fallen asleep standing up—but if there was ever a time in my life I could pull it off, it would be today.

"You in the building?" Ranger finally spoke.

I felt a smile tug at my lips as I pushed the button for the elevator. "Aren't you tracking me on your computer?"

"Laptop." He answered.

"I thought you were in your office?" I stepped into the elevator and hit the button to make it rise to my floor.

"I was."

It was four in the morning now. Ranger was probably ready to pass out too—he'd most likely been up since 6am, maybe even 5am, after getting my call after three; Ranger was getting even less sleep than me and he had a business to run and clients to meet with. He could be sleep talking right now for all I know. "I can let you go,"

"Not yet."

"Ranger, I'm in my apartment building, its okay."

"Humor me a little longer babe."

"'Kay." I didn't feel like arguing, I just wanted to collapse into bed. The elevator door opened and I stepped out and moved toward my door digging for the keys that had probably saved my life tonight and pulling them out of my bag. I shoved the key in the door and started turning the locks.

"Are you home?"

"OhMyGod, you're in my apartment aren't you?!" It sounded like Ranger laughed, but it was muffled no thanks to my useless ears.

"No, I'm at Haywood."

 _Thank God,_ I shoved the door open stumbling ungracefully inside and closed it behind me throwing the locks and pitching my bag onto the counter, dropping my keys beside it before moving towards the bed already undoing the button on my jeans. _"I'm so tired."_ _All I could think about was ripping my clothes off and falling into bed so I could pass the fuck out._ I think I moaned just looking at my waiting pillow.

Ranger's groan was distinct and rough in my ear making me shiver and my nipples pebble instantly. _"Babe,"_

 _Oops._ "Sorry,"

"Don't be, you going to shower first?"

 _"Not tonight,"_ I shoved the jeans down my legs dropped my ass onto the bed to yank my boots off hissing over my scabbed and bruised knee. _Ice pack, I needed ice._ Probably needed one for the top of my head too, and my back…good thing I practically hoarded the damn things these days.

"What's wrong?"

"My knee's just scraped up where I fell on the sidewalk. It's fine." The jeans definitely took the worst of it.

"Are you in bed?"

"So Pushy Ranger. No, I'm grabbing an ice pack first." My phone beeped in my ear—either it was getting louder or my hearing was getting better. I hoped it was the later; I'd rather not be half-deaf forever. I bent over to grab three ice packs from the freezer and straightened up hobbling back towards the bed flipping off the lights.

"Get your ice pack, plug in your phone and put it on speaker."

"I'm not having phone sex with you at four am." I quipped.

"You've been spending too much time with Santos," Ranger growled making my pulse leap.

"No I've been spending too much time with Alicia and Sara." I shot back not wanting Ranger to call poor Les to the mats just because.

"Co-workers?" Ranger asked after a pause.

"Yeah," I settled myself in the sheets distributing ice packs before grabbing my phone cord and plugging it in, I hit the speaker button and noted the phone only had 3% battery it was a wonder the damn thing had stayed on! "Okay seriously," I pointed out laying back trying to keep my eyes open, "I'm home, I'm in bed. The door is locked."

"Leave it on speaker and go to sleep babe,"

"You want me to leave the phone on?"

"If that's the only way I can be there with you, yes."

"Ranger…" I had to swallow three times trying not to sniffle like a baby.

"Its fine babe, just go to sleep."

I didn't think I'd be able to, not with Ranger listening in but I was too tired to argue. I set the phone down on the pillow making sure it was still charging so it wouldn't be dead tomorrow morning when I needed it. I adjusted myself and my ice pack then whispered "good night Ranger," and closed my eyes.

"Good night babe," Was the last thing I heard.

.

.

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Drat!

 **Notes** : So, I was sick Sunday and Monday and so this is a short chapter. I'm hoping to get 25 written Tuesday/Wednesday because most of 26 is written and all of 27. so If I can get that done you can get another bunch of chapters to fly through at once. We'll see how I feel. All I want to do right now is go back to bed.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four**

* * *

My alarm was going off.

I groaned and rolled towards the annoying sound reaching blindly with one arm for my nightstand to stop it only to realize I was laying on the damn thing.

 _What the Hell?_ Then I remembered.

I shifted back grabbing the angry rectangle and hit the OFF button and stared at the clock displayed at the top of the screen. 10:35am. Clearly Ranger was no longer on the speaker phone—in order for the alarm to have gone off he'd have to have ended the call; most likely when he got up to go to gym or work this morning—whenever the Hell that was.

The little text bubble icon at the top of the screen caught my attention. I rubbed at my eyes rolling onto my back and brought up the text messages.

 **Ranger:** I have a client meeting at 0830. Call me when you wake up.

It was time stamped as being received at 815am and my call log showed he'd ended the call a 8:13am which meant Ranger either slept in this morning—or he took the phone on speaker with him to the gym! That seemed crazy so I was going to assume he'd skipped his morning workout in deference to our late night.

I needed a shower something awful since I'd been too tired to even contemplate one last night. I sat up and flicked the sheets off my legs grabbing the now room temperature ice packs and tossing them towards the end of the bed so I could stick them in the freezer after my shower. Damn. There was a highly noticible bruised ring around my ankle and another bruise surrounding my scuffed up knee. Shit. I needed o deal with this today too. As tempting as it was to push it to the back of my mind and just ignore it I knew I couldn't, that psycho had full on attacked me, I couldn't live with myself knowing that if I said nothing he'd probably do this again to someone else—and they might not be so lucky.

I pulled my phone up disconnecting the cord so I could pull it to my ear easier and hit the speed dial button to connect us. It took three rings.

"What's up?"

"So, I ran into a serious issue last night and I'm not sure how to proceed this morning."

"Go on." Tamsin prompted me.

"The Taxi driver that did my pick up last night after work? He attacked me."

"Why the Fuck am I just hearing about this now?!" Tamsin barked.

"I wasn't exactly thinking straight!" I shot back feeling defensive.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm bruised up pretty good but I got away. I just don't know what to do now, he obviously can't get away with this but I didn't think in my position I could just march into the police department and file a complaint."

She exhaled loudly into the receiver collecting herself. "Okay, okay. Start from the beginning, and tell me what happened."

It took me about five minutes to walk her through the events of last night from Hue telling me the Taxi was there to pick me up to him driving me to the wrong part of Queens and our struggle, and finally how I got away."

"Fuck." Tamsin added eloquently to the end.

"Yeah." I added. _That pretty much summed up how I felt about the whole thing too_.

"Okay, give me a minute and I'll call you back, someone needs to come out and get an official statement in plain clothes—just in case."

"Can I take a shower?" I blurted out before she hung up.

"Yeah, Just put the jeans and jacket you were wearing to the side for me and I'll call you back in ten tops."

She disconnected and I dropped the phone onto the bedspread grabbing my ruined jeans and my jacket from the rumpled pile I'd left them in on the floor last night. I folded them on the counter and went to shower. I didn't know if they would help or not the Taxi cab company should have a record of who was dispatched to my call last night so I didn't really think we'd need particulate evidence to prove who showed up, but I'm not a cop—and I sure as hell wasn't going to call Joe to ask him about it.

I shucked my shirt and the panties and bra I'd slept in last night and went to take a shower scrubbing myself down really good and taking stock of my injuries so I could be sure to point them all out to Tamsin—or whoever else arrived. The top of my head was very sore, enough so that I was positive if someone parted my hair they'd find a bruise hidden by my curls. And the handprint on my ankle was a distinct ring going all the way around despite the boots I'd been wearing to protect my legs—I had a matching ring of bruises high up on my right arm I didn't remember getting but that had a very noticeable thumb bruise and a large bruise on my left leg just below my knee—I guess from him trying to yank me out of the backseat. My lower back wasn't as sore as I thought it might be today—but turning to look over my shoulder in the bathroom mirror showed several small bruises over the bumps of my spine and around them slightly less visible from where my back had obviously connected with the side of the cab. _Good thing Ranger couldn't see any of this. He'd be pissed!_

I was equal parts angry seeing the marks, and also relieved that I'd gotten away without worse.

I left the shower and pulled on a pair of workout shorts and a sports bra leaving the marks uncovered since I knew Tamsin was coming over to see them. I'd just pulled the shorts up when there was a knock on my door. I hesitated a moment then went to open it leaving the chain in place.

A tall thin guy who was distinctly balding in black pants and a collared unmarked shirt stood staring at me with a black duffle bag over one shoulder.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm a friend of Tamsin, she sent me to meet you." He waved one hand in an awkward hello. "She said you needed me to pick something up ASAP?"

"Uh, hang on."

I shut the door to take off the chain and my phone started ringing on the bed. I moved to grab it glancing at the display.

"You send this guy?" I asked without offering a hello or descriptive details.

"He's there already? Great, he lives two blocks over, he's very professional. I'll be there in fifteen." And she disconnected.

I tossed the phone back on the bed and went to remove the chain on the door opening it and ushering the guy in with one arm. He stepped just inside pulling a wallet fold from his pocket as I shut the door and showing me a solemn looking photo ID that stated NYC Police Department CRIME LAB.

"Tamsin said one of our on loan undercover agents on special assignment was assaulted last night. I'm here to collect photos and evidence." He blinked at me setting his bag down on my counter noting my folded clothes and not putting his bag on top of them. "I assume that's you?"

I certainly wasn't an undercover agent, because I wasn't an Agent—and I wouldn't call my deal with Davis 'being on loan' but the rest was close enough so…."Sure. That's me."

He unzipped his bag pulling out a notebook and a pen and stood waiting. "So tell me what happened from the beginning and then well collect some photos of your injuries and I'll bag your clothes."

By the time I'd walked him through it answered his questions and had him take photos off all the bruises Tamsin was letting herself into my apartment with a key I didn't realize she had.

"How's it going?" she was glaring at the bruises on my lower back as Trent—the crime scene guy, was snapping pictures with a ruler next to the marks.

"Almost done," He informed her. "Who's desk is this going to?" He grabbed two clear bags with white label marks for names and item descriptions to be written in out of his duffle. I watched him slide my jeans into one, and my jacket in the other and look at me expectantly.

"What?" _He couldn't possibly need my underwear._

Tamsin snorted and Trent grinned. "Your shoes." He clarified.

"Oh, Right." I went to grab them holding them as carefully as I could by the tops hoping any fingerprints they might get—if they needed them weren't destroyed when I yanked them off last night. I could hear Tamsin talking to Trent behind my back as I grabbed them. I really liked these boots too! Lost Jeans and boots, I hope this guy paid

"So who's getting this?" Trent prompted.

"Send it to Donna in SVU and put a special interest marker on it, cross reference it with Davis's case from VC. I want this fucker brought in ASAP, if he'd done this to someone without defensive training we'd have a body on our hands right now."

I froze for a moment dropping the boots into Trent's open bag and realized she was right. If it hadn't been for the training I'd received, and the air horn Dominic had put on my keychain I'd most likely be dead right now.

"Will do." Trent said either overlooking or politely ignoring my little moment of frightening clarity. "Okay," he announced sealing the last bag and tucking it into his duffle with his camera. "I'm all set, I'll get this to the lab and Eric is already pulling up the taxi cab company records, we should have a warrant and arrest rights before noon." He nodded to me and Tams and left shutting the door softly behind him.

"Nice guy." I offered into the silence following him.

"Yeah, lab geeks are cute." She crossed her arms staring at me.

I tried not to squirm. It was like a Ranger stare-down. "So, what now?"

"Now you take your day off, and I get to spend my morning arguing with Davis and McCaffey over protocol and safety measures."

"Sounds fun."

She blew out a breath of disagreement still eyeing me, "So who did you call?"

"What?"

"Last night, you must have called someone afterwards—and it wasn't me or Davis so who?"

"How do you know I called someone?"

"Because you would have been seriously rattled—I would have been seriously rattled after that shit. And I know who I'd call, I'm wondering who you went to."

"Does it matter?"

"Humor me."

"I don't see the point."

She shot me a twisted grin. "Come on, it's going to be a really long fucking day for me now. I wanna know. I could just pull your phone record, it might be necessary for the case."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You're a nosey bitch you know that?"

She smirked. "Damn straight, so spill it chicka. Who does Stephanie Plum call in when the shit hits the fan?"

"I called a friend's business because I knew the guys on overnight would have access to a computer and I needed him to look up a subway station." _Which was the truth—if not all of it._

"That's it." She stared at me eyes narrowing.

"What do you mean?"

"You get assaulted and you call to get _directions_. Not 911, or NY dispatch, not me, or Davis…You just need to find a subway platform—It's business as usual. You found Von and Ember's bodies and you're right back at this a day early. How the fuck do you do it?"

I didn't know what to say so I chose nothing.

"You and I need to sit down and have a beer sometime." She threw out. "You got balls Jersey."

I snorted. Yeah right. _Unless one of them was called calamity and the other was denial I didn't think so._

 _._

* * *

 **To be Continued...**


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, too bad!

 **Notes:** So this chapter is later then I wanted but I had some health issues. Sorry. I have a platelet (bleeding disorder) and when my system crashes I feel like crap, and have no energy. I seem to have self corrected this time, I have blood work again tomorrow but I'm feeling better so hopefully no Hospital stay and transfusions this time! YAY!

This chapter I thought would be close to 10k in word count-but it was already at 7,000-something and I still had a ways to go so I found a good place to cut it short and I'm hoping to get the rest out as Chapter 26 now. A little excitement here and the classic Stephanie ability to land in the worst situation possible without trying! ; )

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Huge thanks for all the fave/follows and reviews! Over 300! You guys make me feel awesome!

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

I changed into a pair of quarter length Yoga pants after Tamsin left just long enough to cover my bruised knee and pulled on a stretchy knit t-shirt over my sports top. I wasn't expected at class today thanks to my bruised body and Tamsin having mercy on me. So I thought I'd go ahead and take advantage of the early afternoon and visit Central Park. It looked like a beautiful autumn day outside my window.

I had to dig through my plastic drawers to find the back-up jacket I'd brought from Jersey with me…I didn't wear it normally because it didn't fit me and I was also afraid something would happen to it and I'd feel terrible. It didn't fit because it was a man's sized XL black zip up hoodie that pretty much swallowed my small frame, especially now; and I didn't want anything to happen to it because the man I'd filched it from was Batman himself. It was obviously old, it had faded from its original crisp black but still plainly displayed a white crest on the left breast with some kind of winged shield, and a grinning skull in a floppy hat. The skull had a sword through its head which I thought was rather morbid considering the leering smile. There was a lightning bolt splitting the whole shield behind it's head.

I didn't know what it stood for but I didn't think it was random—and considering Ranger keeps nothing of sentimental value, that I know of at least, (beyond a Navy SEALS cap) I knew it had to be important. There was no other reason for him to hang onto a faded, black jacket when he had at least five crisp brand new ones with the Rangeman Logo on them hanging in his closet.

I hadn't noticed the emblem when I first stole it. It had been raining and I'd needed a jacket after taking a shower at Haywood. I'd had a really shitty day failing at bounty hunting and life in general that meant my clothes had been ruined and I didn't want anyone from the Burg to accidently see me and spread more rumors about my life. I was at my wits end as it was without the phone blowing up over my latest tiff with Morelli and my Mother screeching at me. I had spare uniforms on seven but no jacket, and the temperature outside was fast dropping from cold rain to sleety yuck so I'd borrowed one out of the back of Ranger's closet. It didn't say Rangeman and I'd assumed it was just an old black jacket he wouldn't miss since it was hidden in the back.

When I'd noticed the emblem after my Mother washed it for me and folded it very carefully, almost reverently, leaving it prominently displayed at the top of my basket so the emblem showed I'd immediately returned it to his closet realizing it was probably something to do with his Army Ranger training and I didn't think he'd want me wearing it. He hadn't been home when I'd taken it or returned it and I'd hoped he wouldn't notice, but that was ridiculous considering this was Ranger we're talking about.

Not even two weeks later it had been hanging in my closet again—right in the front and it smelled like either Ranger had worn it recently—for long enough that his scent still lingered in the soft fabric when I held it to my nose, or someone had found a way to wash his clothes in Bvlgari. The scent faded a week later but the jacket remained soft and comfy and my go to bad day therapy wear when I wanted to sit on the sofa and eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's in one go.

He never mentioned it and I never wore it out of the house so Joe wouldn't have a cow—I didn't wear Joe's jackets, I didn't think he'd handle seeing me wearing Ranger's for the same reason I kept the plain black t-shirts hidden in the back of my shirt drawer. Admitting I slept in Ranger's stolen t-shirts would certainly cause Joe to go straight past red to purple right before the top of his head exploded. They'd probably measure it on the Richter scale in Connecticut. When I went through my things to pack for this trip and I'd just thrown it in my bag without thinking about it, Joe was no longer a concern and it brought me comfort.

I pulled it on, grabbed my messenger bag and headed out the door. My knee was a little sore—but not so bad I couldn't walk. Walking might even help. There had been plenty of mornings after my workouts with Tamsin where I thought all I wanted to do was lie in bed curled in a ball and moan, but stretching out and moving actually helped then, so I was hoping it would do the same now. I didn't still want to be stiff and sore tomorrow and I'd already slept enough with Ranger on the phone this morning that I didn't want to waste a rare afternoon of freedom.

I exited the front doors of my building and just paused a moment breathing deeply and taking in the crisp fall air and the sun beating down on the bricks. The air felt clean and fresh, and for a weekday there seemed to be a surprising number of people just milling around on the sidewalk. I guess the great weather was enough encouragement for some of my fellow New Yorkers to play hooky from work or leave their apartments in droves on a free afternoon.

I started towards the subway entrance figuring I'd take the line to the Park since it really is huge and I was going to do a ton of walking there. New York is staggering in size if you've never been and Central Park itself feels like another world, if you didn't look up and see the skyline of high rises beyond the tree line you'd never know you were in the heart of the city.

I'd just hit the Subway platform when my phone started ringing. _Shit_. I still hadn't called Ranger this morning! I fished it out and hit the button without looking at the screen in my rush to answer before he could call out the National Guard or send half of Rangeman to get me. "I'm so sorry!" I blurted in lieu of my normally teasing ' _Yo'_ as a greeting.

"For what Steph?"

Not the voice I was expecting at all—and I couldn't immediately identify who it belonged too; which for me is usually _not_ a good thing. Too many whackos over the last few years have gotten my phone number—and into my apartment. "Who is this?"

"Uh, it's Alex." He added hesitantly after a pregnant pause.

 _Fuck_. I never called him back either—I'd just kind of avoided it—or even thinking about it, and then with everything else going on I'd forgotten completely. "Alex, Uh… I'm sorry I thought you were someone else."

"Who's that?" He asked inquisitively.

"Not important right now."

"You sure? Other dudes are calling my girlfriend, I'd hate to have to fight someone." He teased.

I was speechless for a split second then snorted at the thought of Alex trying to fight Ranger. _Yeah right_.

"Ouch, that almost makes me question my manly-ness, but I remember the size of your Angry Ranger friend!" Alex laughed in my ear.

 _I guess I said at least some of that out loud_.

"So I know you're busy," Alex continued. "But I wanted to know if you could make it next weekend?"

 _Next weekend?_

"The beach? Atlantic City? You me, bathing suits in the sun?"

"Uh…"

"Come on Gorgeous, help a guy out here my confidence is plummeting." He wheedled.

"I have to work." Which I did. The weekend at least; those were the busiest days.

"You don't have off the weekend or Labor Day?" He pointed out dubiously.

"Uh, No. I work a lot of weekends." Like all weekends, what were weekends really? I had no friends to shop with, and I made the most money on Friday, Saturday and Sunday—all the incentive I needed to ignore the traditional work week schedule.

He exhaled, "I could come to New York …"

"I don't think that's a good Idea…" I jumped in to cut him off, familiar with this kind of blitzkrieg from Joe and my Mother's standard play book.

"Look Steph, I'm really trying here. I want to get to know you better, but you're a seriously difficult woman to pin down."

Guilt filled me. "I'm sorry," _God, why was I always apologizing for things?_ "It's just not a good time." I tried to explain, hoping to put him off so I could deal with this later, much—much later hopefully. "I'm trying to get a handle on this huge project at work…"

"Does this project have a name?" Alex snapped suddenly cutting me off.

"Uh…" The sudden change in demeanor threw me for a loop.

"Just tell me his name Stephanie. I should at least know who you're seeing."

What? "Excuse me?!" I snapped feeling the guilt flip over to irritation faster than a released rubber band. "First off—I'm not seeing anyone." _Not that that was any of his freaking business!_ "And Second, even if I was—we've only been on one date. That does not give you the right to dictate my life!" _I should just hang up, the nerve!_

"You're right," Alex let out in a rush. "I'm sorry. I over reacted. Let me make it up to you please Steph…give me your address I'll take you out Friday, anywhere you want…I'll send you something today flowers, chocolates anything to show you how sorry I am…Please baby?"

My skin was crawling, and it wasn't just the last word that hit me like a punch to the gut twisting my insides into knots. "No. You know what this isn't working for me. I have to go."

"Stepha—" I hit the end button cutting him off and blew out a breath. The creepy sensation still tickling the back of my neck.

 _Ugh. I have the worst luck with Men!_ The phone started ringing in my hand and I let it go to voicemail. He didn't call back again, I noted with relief. Trying to shake off the last call I hit speed dial and waited knowing I couldn't put this off any longer.

"Babe, I was about to drive to New York and drag you out of bed."

 _Hmm._ Visions of me dragging Ranger into bed instead danced in my head leaving me with a hot flash that brought a stupid grin to my face and wiped away the last of the icky feeling talking to Alex had left me with.

"Too bad you don't know where I live," I shot back pulling the Tiger's tail just a little and then rushed to add "I've actually been up for a while, but I had some things I had to take care of first thing this morning."

"Anything you'd like to share?"

I didn't see a reason not to, "Filing a report on last night."

"And?" Ranger prompted when I went silent.

"Nothing really, hopefully they pick the guy up quickly before he can hurt someone else."

Ranger made a noncommittal humming noise into my ear I didn't know how to interpret then added "what are you doing now?"

"Are you staring at your lap top again?" I teased laughing at the ridiculous thought; it wasn't like Ranger spent all day in his office with my tracking screen pulled up just watching a little dot bounce around New York! He had a multi-state company to run!

"Always Babe,"

I couldn't tell if he was being serious without searching his face—maybe not even then, Ranger is a hard guy to read and often left me in the dark guessing as to whether he was teasing or serious. I waited but he seemed to be finished sharing. "I'm going to the Park." I informed him, If he was really tracking me he'd know soon enough.

"Central?"

"Yes."

"Be careful and stay in the common areas near other people. Do you have pepper spray?"

"Rangeeer! It's the middle of the day! It's not a vacant alley at midnight it's a Public Park!" I think I'm capable of walking through a park, what's the worst that could happen, I trip on the sidewalk and twist my ankle?

 _…_ _Actually that sounded exactly like me,_ I frowned.

"It's a big Park with its own police force for good reason Steph. Please be Careful."

I guess that was true, I'd never really thought about it, still I felt Ranger was being a tad over cautious even if I was a magnet for disasters. "I'll be careful." I agreed. Ranger rarely said _Please_ for anything. Besides, I'd had enough life threatening situations this week. I was well past my quota and tapped out.

"Okay, Call me later." And just like that he was gone.

I stared at my phone in my hand before tucking it into the inside pocket of my messenger bag. That was _almost_ a Goodbye in Batman terms—weird.

As soon as I put away the phone and started walking towards the closest Subway station entrance down the block the sensation that someone was watching me returned. I stopped and turned, swiveling my head up and down the street trying to pin point the source but found nothing. No one was looking at me that I could see; no creepy men with scraggly hair that looked like my driver turned attacker last night and no black Rangeman SUV creeping down the street or parked inconspicuously on the curb. Probably I was just feeling sensitive and a little paranoid after last night knowing that jerk was out there somewhere—I'd certainly be paying closer attention to my cab drivers before getting into any more cars. _A day late and a dollar short but_ _Lesson learned!_

I tried to shrug off the feeling and kept walking certain I was imagining it. It was a truly gorgeous day and I planned to take full advantage of the breeze and sun shine. The temperature was perfect and everyone seemed to be uplifted by the great weather.

I pulled out my MetroCard for the subway as I went down the same stairs I'd taken early this morning talking to Ranger. The train should arrive in just a few minutes so I hurried to swipe my card at the Turnstile and stood waiting beside a few other scattered Passengers already on the platform. A few more commuters drifted down the stairs while I waited. One lady was making a fuss over getting a small fluffy dog dressed in a blue sweater and matching hair bows into her bag so they could board the train when it arrived.

I tried to picture wrestling a Hamster into a tiny sweater and was glad Chic Hamster Clothing had never been a trend. I'd probably get my fingers bit off, Rex had been a pretty chill dude but even he would probably draw the line at Hamster fashion.

The prickling sensation crawled up the back of my neck again, setting all the tiny hairs on my skin standing on end. I looked around trying to be casual—just a lady on a subway platform taking in her fellow passengers. Still no one stood out to me with obvious warning bells. The sixth sense of being watched was starting to make me feel paranoid and jumpy. Maybe I really was just over sensitive after last night, after an experience like that it was understandable right? I'd been fine in the city for Month alone—clearly not everyone in New York was a deranged maniac just looking for their next mark.

No one standing on the platform was dragging an axe behind them, or staring me down with creepy dead eyes like Ramirez had possessed. I was clearly just freaking myself out for no good reason. Ranger would laugh at me if I told him I was afraid to stand on a subway platform all by myself in the middle of the day. Ranger regularly went to Stark in the middle of the night, which was way scarier!

 _Get a grip Steph._ I chided myself as the train arrived and the doors slide open allowing the passengers to exit the cars and the rest of us to board.

I took a seat near the rear of the car farthest from the doors sliding down the seat to put my back against the wall channeling my inner Ranger—or trying to immolate him at least. The ride to Central Park would take me thirty minutes and I'd have to change subway lines halfway. The tone sounded and the doors slide shut on the station as we departed down the track.

The lady with her little dog was in the same car I'd entered and her furry travel companion wasn't happy with the noise of the subway or the flashing lights that went by outside as we slid through the tunnel. She was trying to shush him unsuccessfully and casting apologetic glances to the other passengers for his intermittent piercing bark. The little bow covered head sticking out of her bag was practically vibrating with agitation as the rest of the passengers rolled their eyes in annoyance. I felt bad for her, I'd been the center of unwanted attention before, it sucked. The poor dog couldn't help that he was freaked out by the subway ride, and she was clearly trying to quiet him down.

That said, after twenty minutes I was just as desperate as everyone else unfortunate enough to be sharing the same metal cylinder echoing and his sharp yaps to escape. The longer he'd yowled on the more each piercing sound they felt like ice picks to the brain.

I practically leapt off the train at the next station glad that when she exited in the same place she didn't stand next to me to wait for the next train with the other passengers but instead hurried up the stairs clearly embarrassed and still toting her furiously yapping handbag.

I'd considered getting a dog after Rex passed away months ago—but considering my unpredictable schedule, and the number of thongs I'd lost to Bob I'd quickly nixed that idea. The fact that hamsters don't bark and didn't need to ride the subway to go places with me had just been added to the list as major positives in the future roommate debate.

The next train arrived and I climbed on board with the rest of my fellow commuters still lost in my thoughts about Rex and Bob, and there was even a little Joe in there too…I did miss him sometimes—we'd spent a lot of time around each other over the last three years, and not all of it was bad. A lot of it was comfortable and relaxing looking back on our time together I think what we honestly did best was hanging out on the couch eating greasy pizza and watching hockey. If we'd been a couple of dudes, or Sex had never entered the picture I think we could have been great friends. The problem was me and Joe just had so much history muddying the waters between us and the lines were always blurred. No wonder we'd been a hot mess from the beginning.

I didn't even want to analyze my relationship with Ranger. I wasn't feeling anywhere near brave enough for that train of thought and the heartache that would certainly go with it.

The ticker sign rolled to announce the next stop and the car slowed as it pulled into the station. I climbed to my feet and took the stairs up to street level and immediately could see the giant green wall that was the edge of Central Park. The green stretched on as far as I could see from here and I practically skipped to the cross walk pushing the button and waiting for the crosswalk to change so I could cross the street. Finally the light changed and I hurried across the intersection with a group of people and into the park.

The sun was shining, the grass was vibrant green and looked softer then carpet. People were biking, pushing strollers and walking dogs. The leaves hanging over the sidewalks and narrow streets were a wash of green with hints of yellow, red, gold, and purple creeping in. In another week or two they would be a riot of color and breath-taking. I wandered down the sidewalk onto a cobblestone walking path past bronze statues, fountains, and trees so tall they quickly hid the skyline surrounding me. It really was like another world here.

I meandered down paths, picking my direction at random—just enjoying being outside in the fresh air and nature. I might be a Jersey girl that loves beaches and can't live without a decked out mall but there was something equally appealing about his beautiful green wonderland surrounding me. Around one I found myself on a tree lined sidewalk edging one of the two lane streets that cut through the park and allowed vehicle traffic the occasional yellow taxi cab carting passengers in and out of the park. The curb was packed with horse drawn carriages of various colors their engines at parade rest; back legs cocked half asleep as they waited for someone to take a ride.

They were vaguely reminiscent of Ranger and me waiting for hours on end on a stake out for something to happen. One of them opened his mouth and let out a huge jaw cracking yawn as I walked past and I couldn't help laughing. _Okay, so maybe they were more like_ _ **Me**_ _on stakeout_. I don't think I'd ever seen Ranger yawn— _Ever_. _Batman didn't get bored; Batman just went to_ _ **the Zone.**_

The scent of Hotdogs drifted to me on the breeze suddenly so distinct and intense it made me weak in the knees. _God I was starving!_ How did I not realize I was famished until this moment? Guess I really had been absorbed in taking in the sights and sounds around me.

 _Way to be aware of my surroundings!_ I snorted at my inner Ranger and hurried to stand in line at the food cart digging through my bag to pull out a folded twenty. My mouth was watering and my stomach was growling in anticipation of slow basted ball park perfection smothered in sauerkraut and slathered with honey mustard. I was so hungry I felt like I could eat a horse, but I'd settle for a foot long instead.

 _God the jokes Lester was missing!_ He'd cry if he knew.

I paid for my lunch trying not to snort and laugh out loud like a crazy person at my musings wondering if Lester would simply waggle his eyebrows at me suggestively if he'd heard me order a foot long, or if he'd be bold enough to offer me one of his own. I had to bite my lip to keep in the laughter not wanting to alarm the other lunch customers. Would Ranger slap him in the back of the head like I'd seen Bobby do when Les threw innuendos at me in front of the other guys or would he just scowl and order Lester to the mats?

I didn't have to wonder about my own reaction; I'd probably blush and try to hide it by rolling my eyes, no surprise there. Even working at Dom's the last few months it seemed I was still capable of blushing like crazy in the most unflattering manner possible.

I took my paper crimped hot dog and cut across the grass to sit on one of the gigantic rocks scattered throughout the green spaces beside the road. The sun was beating down here and had warmed the surface to the point it was hot—but not enough to burn skin. It was a little awkward to climb with only one hand so I didn't go very high, unlike some of the college students reading or studying higher up, stretched out and enjoying the sunshine. I picked a relatively flat spot I didn't think I'd slide or fall from—that would be embarrassing! I plopped rather ungracefully down on the smooth sun warmed surface legs stretched out in front of me, bag beside me and leaned back on one hand taking my first bite of Ball Park bliss.

 _Dear Lord. This was the best damn hot dog ever!_

Either there was some secret ingredient in the cooking, or I was so hungry my taste buds were biased. I moaned and closed my eyes savoring the burst of flavor across my tongue with every bite. _Screw whatever Lester might say, next time I wanted a hot dog I was driving to New York and eating one of these—maybe two or three._

I polished off the hot dog way too quickly and was seriously considering buying another one when my phone started ringing in my bag. I blew out a breath hoping it wasn't Alex but fished it out anyways. If it was Ranger and I didn't answer he'd probably deploy troops.

I glanced at the screen. _Not Ranger, Tamsin_.

"Yo," I greeted her clearly still thinking about Ranger.

"Cheeky." She shot back then launched into her reason for calling. "So I have information on your Taxi driver."

"Alright."

"His name is Travis Muchnik, 43; employed with a private cab company that contracts with the city. Employed for less than a year—not exactly a stellar employee but the owner didn't have any reason to suspect he'd assault his fares. Julian gave him a pretty hard time about it and he seemed pretty upset and was very cooperative. Guy picks his checks up at the office, but the owner pulled his W-2 from their files and we got an address in Queens and we're sending a squad car over to check it out. According to the owner a Mr.…Almere he didn't come back last night at end of shift to return his cab. Probably because of his busted up face, that would have been hard to explain if you broke his nose. Mr. Almere's been calling his phone but he hasn't answered and he was about to report the Cab as stolen to the police. Julian had him file the form while they were there so we can add Grand theft to the charges of assault."

"So you have enough to hold him if you pick him up?" I'd been around the system enough to know you needed a good reason to hold someone or they'd be out in a matter of hours; and a court date didn't mean jack to most criminals. My former employment proved that daily.

"Absolutely the Grand theft makes it even better. I should know in less than an hour and then I'll need you to come down and make a positive ID for the record."

"It's pretty nifty that the NYPD lets you just run around their office… open door policy for night club managers?" I was fishing, hoping she'd clue me in to which acronym she worked with because I knew she had to be a Cop or FBI, I just didn't know which. I fished with Ranger a lot over the years even if it rarely yielded any information beyond a raised brow and a ' _babe'_. I'm nosey, it's a product of being Burg raised I'm sure of it, and it's helped me solve cases before.

I could hear the grin in her voice when she answered. "Damn straight. These boys need a little management." _Which wasn't really admitting to anything was it? Darn_. I heard someone talking in the background and her tone became all business again. "I'll call you back when you can come down."

"'Kay." We hung up and I stuffed the phone back in my bag and pulled Ranger's jacket off balling it up and stuffing it behind my head before leaned back on my elbows closing my eyes and tilting my face back to relax planning to soak up the sun while I waited with any luck there'd be one less whacko in the City to worry about by tonight. After a few moments I gave up the pretense of being aware of my surroundings and just laid back on my makeshift jacket pillow feeling the sun soak into my skin warming me like a human lizard. _It wasn't the beach, but I could make do; Ahhhh Bliss!_

When my skin started to feel a little too warm I decided I'd had enough sun bathing and figured I should continue my walk around the park in the shade. I didn't have on sunscreen, and unlike Ranger's perfect Mocha latte complexion my pasty white skin liked to burn.

I glanced at my phone to catch the time and was shocked to see it was nearly 3 o'clock! The day was just flying by, it also meant I'd been sunbathing for close to 45 minutes though it felt like ten and Tamsin had yet to call me back. I hoped that didn't mean there was a problem picking up Muchnik the Taxi driver—but I'd been through this mess with my life and general luck too many times before. I was betting he wasn't home, and they'd just be on the lookout for him or his license plate while he took off for parts unknown. If I was him I certainly wouldn't stick around waiting to be arrested!

I pushed myself up from my sunbathing spot brushing off anything that might have stuck to my butt grabbed Ranger's jacket and my bag sliding it over my head and onto my shoulder again before climbing to my feet and carefully making my way off the Rock and back to the grass. I tossed my crumpled hot dog wrapper into the trash and continued down the cobblestone path that should lead me back towards where I'd first entered the park.

Turned out is was more of a long way around then I expected because I ended up in a sort of wide open lawn, and could see a body of water up ahead large enough I'd consider it a Lake. There were quite a few people on the paths around the lake, and siting on the grass—but I noticed that most of them were giving the lake a wide berth and as I drew closer I realized why when I witnessed a gang of five geese fly at a jogger that obviously got too close to the water beating their wings and honking up a storm. One of them landed not twenty feet from me and his snake like neck swiveled around and his beady eyes fixing on me as he let out a threatening _HONK_!

 _Oh, Hell No._

Visions of my experience with the Attack Geese at Trenton Park coming after not just me but poor dopey defenseless Bob flited through my head. _Yeah, so not happening_.

There looked to be about a hundred menacing geese scattered around the edges of the water and floating in the middle—I was not interested in reenacting Alfred Hitchcock's _The Birds_. Not today, not ever. I learned my lesson that day in the park! Geese despise me more than Grandma Bella does—instead of the Eye though they just flew at you flapping their wings, honking like lunatics and tried to peck your eyes out!

Being almost mauled to death by birds was a once in a lifetime experience I didn't care to repeat so I changed course and chose to follow a path up a steep hill moving away from the pond that quickly disappeared into a shadowed tree line and seemed to wind its way through a thick stand of man-made woods for quite a ways. The shade was nice after the open sunshine, and the woods were filled with the sounds of birds less likely to kill me so I shrugged off the nagging voice that sounded suspiciously like Ranger in the back of my head reminding me I was supposed to stay near other people.

It was still the middle of the day, and I was not getting attacked by Geese.

The woods were bigger then I originally thought and soon I could no longer see the lake, or anyone else. The skin prickling sensation that I was being followed, or watched slithered up my spine and I found myself glancing behind me, and around me at the dark shadows under the trees more than really enjoying the quiet scenery.

Just a nice stroll through the woods. Nothing to freak out about. But the feeling didn't go away, it only intensified until I'd convinced myself that somehow the Taxi cab driver from last night or a mugger or someone else with sinister intentions must be following me. I sped up my steps hitching my bag closer to my side and fisting my hands over my jacket. I could always throw it or swing it at someone's head; if I whipped it hard enough they'd be distracted enough to flinch and take a step back and could use that moment to get away right, or at the very least get a head start? That was my plan. I marched on, too convinced someone was following me to risk turning back. _Why didn't I grab a freaking Map at the entrance to the park?_ I had no idea where this path lead to, and clearly no one else was using it; what if it was a dead end or something and I had no choice but to turn around and go back the other way?

The trees started to space out to a thinner, younger wood and the path dropped steeply down into a gulley that had water trickling through it. Just across the short wooden bridge to the other side of the path was a tunnel that loomed dark and ominous in a virtual wall of vines and thick underbrush and rock. The single unlit lamp post at its mouth did nothing to improving it's dark interior or foreboding appearance.

My footsteps hesitated as fear slithered up my spine giving me goose bumps. The tunnel was long enough that I could see the other side through it, but not short enough that it was well lit in the center—it was just dark enough to send my wild imagination dancing with gleefully wicked images from too many B movies and episodes of SVU. I considered pulling out my cell phone and Dialing Ranger—but what could he do really? Laugh at me for being afraid of the dark? Remind me that I'd agreed to stay in crowded areas and like a dope here I was staring at the mouth of a dark tunnel in the middle of the woods. Probably talking on a cellphone wouldn't help me if there was someone following me, probably I should appear alert and ready to defend myself against attack—and not distracted and babbling away on my phone.

I gripped the jacket in my right hand so hard my knuckles turned white. Behind me I swear I heard a twig snap and I shrieked and plummeted into the tunnel at a dead run. Probably it was a squirrel, or a bird, or a random Jogger finally coming down the path enjoying the quiet woods. The mouth of the tunnel was only a few feet away now and I started to slow my pace feeling ridiculous for running from what was probably a squirrel.

Until I tripped over a body lying on the ground and slammed into the asphalt so hard I saw stars. I had just a second to think, Jesus Christ Not again! When the body jerked upright and a hand locked around my ankle.

I shrieked and kicked out blindly and the person clinging to me hollered something undecipherable as another hand came out of no-where and grabbed my purse…the purse that was still over my shoulder and firmly connected to my body.

"No!" I twisted onto my butt and got an eyeful of a disheveled man, his skin was covered in thick discoloring patches of filth, and the ratty appearance of his jacket and pants gave the instant impression of either homelessness or drug addiction, maybe both with the nonsense he was spewing.

Probably I'd just stepped on this poor man and scared the shit out of him while he'd been sound asleep or high, but he was still pawing at my bag and yanked at my ankle trying to drag me closer, and the wordless babble coming from his was terrifying. I swung my other arm out in an arc and the Jacket whipped across his face making him screech in alarm. He hollered again as an angry red line bloomed across his cheekbone from the bottom clasp of the zipper striking him. He let go of my purse and ankle as I whipped the jacket at him again shouting for him to let me go.

Unfortunately he grabbed the jacket on its next pass and yanked hard enough that I almost fell over. So there was a serious flaw in my self-dense plan. He was still yelling like a madman—and I was shrieking like a horror movie victim; certainly someone would hear the commotion we were making and come investigate. When his bony fingers locked on the jacket with both hands and he yanked again I decided I wasn't going to wait for someone to come talk sense into both of us, I just wanted to get the hell away from here.

I let go of the Jacket sending him sprawling backwards, he bellowed a slurred "Bitch Get back here!" but I was already up on my feet and running away from both the creepy tunnel and the homeless guy still yelling after me.

He didn't' appear to be following me but I ran until I was out of the trees, and back into a greenspace that once again featured a scattering of college students and young families—all completely oblivious to the fact that I'd just assaulted—or nearly been assaulted by a homeless man living under a bridge like a troll.

 _I was never telling Ranger about this!_

And then I realized with a stab of loss and a twist of guilt. I'd just left Ranger's jacket with the homeless guy in the woods. _Shit_. I dropped onto a bench in defeat fighting tears and took a few deep breaths. _Try to think about this rationally Steph—you blew up and flattened a Porsche Boxster and Ranger's only concern had been whether I was alright. Certainly some old Jacket couldn't be as important or cost as much as a Boxster!_ But somehow the Jacket felt more important, Ranger let me keep it when it was obviously important enough that he'd held onto it long enough for it to fade—and I'd lost it. _God I was such a disaster._

My phone started ringing in my bag and I nearly jumped out of my skin with a squeak. A guy that was jogging past noticed and shot me a saucy grin and I blushed furiously.

 _Apparently I just amuse people everywhere I go!_

I sighed as he jogged further down the sidewalk and fished in my bag trying to find the phone that had shifted in either my fall or my flight to escape the guy I'd stepped on. Probably I really had just scared the shit out of him and completely over-reacted.

 _I finally found my phone at the very bottom of my bag but not before I missed whoever was trying to reach me. It had just started ringing again as I pulled it out and glanced at the screen._

 _Ranger._

 _Crap. I tried to slow my frantically beating heart and control my breathing. He'd called twice in less then a minute—I got the feeling not answering the phone wouldn't end well for me._ _Maybe if I pretended everything was fine I could put him off long enough that I could replace the jacket._ _My mom might know what the crest stood for—Or my dad even, he'd been in the Army._ _I didn't think going back and asking the homeless guy I'd upset for the jacket was a great idea—even if it was a huge misunderstanding he'd been pretty riled up and I'd scratched his face when I swung the jacket at him, probably he'd just hit me if he saw me again._ _He was probably pissed!_

I hit the button to accept the call and offered what I homed was a casual "Yo," into the receiver.

"You sound out of breath." Ranger pointed out immediately. "Am I interrupting something?"

What the hell would he be interrupting that was worth sounding so dare I say…pissy? "No, just running through the park." I wasn't lying.

Ranger was silent for a few heartbeats while I tried not to breath too loudly into the phone. "You're running?"

 _Jeeze, he didn't have to sound so incredulous! I could run!_ _Especially if I thought someone was after me!_ "This park is Huge," I pointed out defensively. "If I walk the whole way it will be midnight before I make it home!"

"Call me when you get there." He hung up not sounding convinced—but at least he didn't outright accuse me of lying. I blew out a breath and slumped against the back of the bench. I could put off telling him about the jacket for a little while at least—he wasn't going to show up expecting me to have it so I had time to figure out what do tell him or how to get a replacement one. I was so tired of destroying and losing his stuff—one day he was going to realize I was way more trouble than I was worth.

I dropped my phone back inside my purse only for it to start ringing again. _Crapballs_. Maybe Ranger actually had a tracker in his jacket and he'd just pulled up his laptop program and realized that I was broadcasting from two different locations. I fished the phone back out with a sick feeling in my stomach I'd definitely label as dread and breathed a sigh of relief. Tamsin.

"Hello?"

"Bad news."

"Not what I want to hear right now."

"Muchnik's address on his W-2 belongs to his brother—who hasn't seen him in two months."

"We sure about that?" I'd had plenty of friends and family of skips lie when I'd shown up to take them in, swearing they hadn't seen them in days, weeks or months—even when they'd been the person to put up collateral for the bond.

"He let them in to search and said his brother was sleeping on his couch for a few months but he asked him to leave because he was seeing a women and Travis kept making her uncomfortable."

I could imagine.

"We've got an unmarked car at least for the night sitting on the street, so if he shows up they'll grab him."

"And if he doesn't show up tonight?"

"Can't waste man hours." Tamsin announced, sounding annoyed. "Budget cuts. Hopefully we get lucky and he shows up or someone reports the cab."

Great. So we'd basically gotten nothing. There was a serial killer on the loose in the city—possibly following me around as his next victim, and we couldn't even stop one perverted taxi cab driver. And now there was a crazy homeless guy with my jacket.

"You wanna explain that last one because that didn't sound like a declaration of charity."

Looks like I was still thinking out loud. I sighed. "I'm in Central Park, I was running and tripped over this guy he was lying in a tunnel on this path and it was so dark I didn't even see him. He freaked out, was yelling total gibberish and he grabbed my jacket when I swung it at him to keep him away from me. We fought over it for a second but he was freaking me out so I let it go and took off. I think he was on drugs."

"What were you doing running in the park? I thought I told you to take it easy." She sounded annoyed.

"I was! I was walking and I felt like someone was following me; there was no one around and I got freaked out so I started running—and that's when I tripped over the guy."

Tamsin blew out a breath into the phone. "I can't decide if you've got the best luck of anyone I've ever met, or the worst."

I snorted. "Remind me to tell you about the Porsche Boxster Pancake sometime."

"That does sound intriguing. I'll call you I we find something. Make sure you're out of the park before dark." She hung up. She did that a lot. I _wonder if she and Ranger could be related._

I dropped the phone inside my bag again this time it stayed silent.

.

* * *

 **To be continued...**

.

I hope you enjoyed it!


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Notes:** This is a short chapter, but 27 is somewhere around 6,000 and I'm still tweaking it so I figured you'd probably rather have this short chapter now so you have something, rather then wait for both at the same time.

I mean, clearly in a perfect world where I lived without distractions or RL issues I'd have the whole thing done by now and you could have it all instead of sitting infront of your computers and roaring "MOAR!" like t-rex's...but alas, that's not to be. I am working on it though!

Also, Seems like a LOT of readers really want Steph to get that jacket back...

be careful what you wish for my dears!

Muhahahahaha!

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

* * *

It was six O'clock before I made it back to my apartment.

I ended up leaving the park shortly after my conversation with Tamsin and Ranger—but I'd stopped at a small hole in the wall Thai place I'd seen just as I left the park on the way to the subway station. I figured I'd had a pretty rough couple of days and I deserved to pig out a little bit.

I'd gone inside and gotten a table for one. I'd have felt a little odd by myself months ago but it no longer bothered me and they had a TV on over the small bar so I'd watched the Five O'clock news and eaten an entire order of Shrimp and Chicken Pad Thai, fried spring rolls, and orange slices. I was so full when I left I thought I might be sick, but it was delicious. I was definitely going to eat there again.

I'd seriously over eaten and was feeling sluggish and sleepy despite the early hour. I'd set my bag down after locking my door and went to wash my face. I brushed my teeth pulled my hair out of its pony tail and brushed it out then decided to just go to bed. Maybe I'd read for a little while and call it an early night. I hadn't had an afternoon nap on a regular basis in a long time and I could always catch up on some sleep with the long nights and crappy sleep I'd been getting lately.

I toed off my tennis shoes and pulled off my yoga pants since I'd worn them outside today. I shucked my bra and swapped out my shirt for one of Ranger's black t-shirts. They were skin tight on the man in black but so loose and long on my they hit mid-thigh and if I added a belt probably could probably pass as a dress.

I crawled into bed and grabbed my book glancing at the time display on my phone—If I called Ranger now he'd probably just be finished with his day. If he didn't have to worry about me wandering around in the city he could get some sleep or do some paperwork, or plot to over throw a third world country.

I wasn't sure exactly what Batman did with his 'down time' I only ever saw the man in work or rescue mode honestly. I didn't know if Ranger had an 'off button', did Ranger ever just Netflix and Chill? I snorted out loud and bit back a snicker at the mere thought. Although, they had war documentaries on Netflix right? I tried to picture it and snorted again…the only time I ever saw him even watch TV or movies was when he was hiding out at my apartment during the Scrog fiasco, or when he came over and I was already watching something. He didn't always stay when that was the case, sometimes he just checked on me and then left—but on the rare occasions that he did I was able to secretly imagine what it would be like if I was dating Ranger instead of Joe. It was a private fantasy I'd never admit out loud, what would it be like to do normal daily things with Batman? I didn't even know what kind of movies Ranger would watch if he wanted to…Did he prefer to read? Did he like Action? Or would he find the misinformation and inaccuracies over things like ammo and explosions too annoying to let go?

When I actually sat down and thought about all the things I didn't know about the man I considered one of my Best friends, and secretly the love of my life it was depressing. And considering Ranger's stance on relationships, and the way he shut down anytime I fished for information on him I guess I'd never know.

I still had the voice mail from Alex to deal with, I wasn't sure I wanted to listen to it. Part of me was curious sure, I mean it's me. But the rest of me just wanted to delete it and ignore him in the future…the fact that he'd been to my parent's house so many times might be a problem though.

Maybe I should have paid closer attention when Ranger said he had a juvie record. I had no idea if he'd been in trouble for stalking someone, stealing a car or shoplifting a candy bar. Though honestly if it had been something as trivial as a candy bar theft I doubted Ranger would have gotten all bent out of shape over it. Guess I should ask, though if I did that I'd have to tell him why I was suddenly interested in the information—and that would mean admitting (embarrassingly) that once again I was a screw up that attracted crazies like white on rice. _Ugh_.

Blowing out a heavy sigh I hit speed dial and flopped back against the pillows waiting for the phone to connect. Two rings in I got his classic, "Yo," and that was it.

"I'm home."

"You going back out?"

"Nope. I'm planning to read and go to bed."

"Early."

"I'm tired." I pointed out and then as emphasis to the statement my body decided to yawn. "Maybe I'll skip reading." Now that I was lying in bed sleep sounded way more appealing than my latest book.

"What are you reading?" Ranger asked.

"It's a Nicolas Spark book, and it's ridiculous." I complained. The more I read the more annoyed I was with the characters. Here was this flawed girl with a messed up life and Mr. Perfect was falling all over himself to fix it for her and bending over backwards to make it right. Men didn't act like that in real life! Not any men I knew at least _! One night together and the guy was spilling his guts and professing his undying love for the girl?_ _Yeah right, Like that shit ever happened!_ _In real life Mr. Perfect hits the door in the morning and tells her to fix her crappy relationship with the guy she doesn't want and is guiltily using as a place holder for the man she can't have!_

My chest constricted in pain. "I think I'm going to switch to murder mysteries, or spy novels." I announced tossing the book onto the floor. Something free of sappy perfect endings where the guy wants the girl more than his next breath, that was just frustrating and disheartening. The only people that wanted me like that were homicidal rapists and whackos.

"Try Tom Clancy, Lee Child or Robert Ludlum."

"You read Tom Clancy?" I was stunned as much by the information release as the subject— _Military war game books and spy novels? Wasn't that almost work? Maybe he considered it research._

I swear Ranger chuckled under his breath, "No one's shooting at me so it can't be work. I like to read, I read when I have time; which isn't often unless I'm laid up. The details aren't always right but its close enough I can overlook it for the storyline in most cases."

 _I'll be damned_. _Batman details!_ "Couldn't you just watch the movies?" Especially since he didn't have a lot of time, that would be so much easier and faster.

"Babe," Ranger was amused.

 _My Dad read Tom Clancy. I'd seen those books since I was a kid—they were massive!_ _The last one he read was heavier than a cinder block!_

"It took me six months to finish it." Ranger agreed proving I was still thinking out loud tonight, one day I was going to learn to keep my mouth shut!

"Because it was so long?" I figured batman would be a faster then average reader, but it still had to be over 1000 pages!

"Because I had to leave the country in the middle of it." Ranger admitted.

"It must suck to have to drop everything in your life and leave at a moment's notice," I tried to picture doing that, I guess it would be similar to what had happened to me four months ago. I tried to picture how Joe would have reacted if we'd been together when I left town— not well I'd imagine. Ranger's reasons for not having a traditional relationship might hurt, but this was his life. I knew from experience he left at the drop of a hat and was gone, sometimes for months.

"It didn't used to bother me," Ranger said. "I knew what I was doing made a difference, and I'm good at what I do. Lately I'm starting to reconsider."

"You don't want to go in the wind anymore?"

"No, I don't. It's become a real inconvenience to leave at a moment's notice the last two years."

He had spent a lot of time and money building Rangeman from the ground up to leave constantly for weeks or months at a time. I knew firsthand the level of dedication and man hours Ranger put into his business. Tank would probably be ecstatic he no longer had to vouch for my personal safety. If he wasn't shaved bald I think he'd have grey hair every time Ranger went in the wind.

"Rangeman runs perfectly without me, whether I'm gone for three days or three months—I designed it that way on purpose. I have more important personal matters I want to focus my attention on." It sounded like a confession and my held the phone tighter against my ear listening intently. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started beating faster.

It was too much to hope that the personal matters Ranger was anxious not to be away from had anything to do with _me_ ; probably it was whoever was moaning into the phone the other night. I tried to tamp down the disappointment and heartache that accompanied that thought.

Ranger was silent. I wasn't sure if this was a typical Ranger quiet or if he was waiting for me to respond. What I wouldn't give to be having this conversation face to face…though with Ranger's often blank expression I doubt it would help me know what he was thinking, the man was impossible to read! "It would be nice to have you home…I…uh, I mean, in Trenton, you know around…" _Smooth Steph, I was such a dunce_. _Now I was glad we weren't face to face because I was certain my face was cherry tomato red!_

"I like when you blush babe, it's adorable." I was clearly amusing him again.

"Adorable, great." I blew out a breath ruffling the curls hanging around me face.

"Would you prefer Sexy?" his voice had dropped a whole octave but the teasing note remained.

I snorted ignoring the answering heat in my body. "Give me a break! There is _nothing_ sexy about turning beet red!" It was embarrassing, as a teenager I'd hated it even more than I did now. In High school I used to blush all the time, for almost _everything_. Not even the best foundation and compact a Jersey girl could apply would hide it either! Joyce used to take great delight in turning my bright red in front of anyone she could, the more people the better. Hence the locker room pictures she spread around school and the time she filled my hallway locker with tampons so they fell out the second I opened it. I growled at the memory.

"Babe," Ranger groaned in my ear pulling my attention back to our conversation. "Playing with fire." He breathed a second later in husky voice.

"What? I didn't do anything!"

"That's the problem babe." Ranger was definitely laughing now; it was soft and throaty and did interesting things to my insides that felt dangerously like the early stages of self-combustion. "You drive me crazy without even trying."

I should be annoyed by that comment. Joe often said I drove him crazy and it pissed me off to no end—but somehow when Ranger said it in that amused tenor it was almost, _endearing_. I felt like if he was standing in front of me he'd have said it while winding one of my curls around his finger and giving it a tug. I'll never admit it out loud, but every time he did that, or swept my hair back behind my hears and traced the back of his fingers around the curve of my chin, or down my neck to rest on my shoulders I got a little electric current that shot straight down my spine, and made my heart race.

I sucked in a deep breath fighting feelings I didn't want to examine closely, not with Ranger on the phone. Maybe not even after I was alone. Denial was safer for my sanity and heart. I needed to get off the phone before I blurted out something truly embarrassing. Luckily my body chose that moment to let out another jaw cracking yawn, one Ranger clearly heard even through the phone.

"Get some sleep babe, I…I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Kay," I mumbled wondering at his stumbled words, It didn't sound like he'd hung up yet, "good night Ranger." I yawned again my body emphasizing the words needlessly.

"Good night babe,"

I stared at my phone for a good five minutes after he hung up bemused and delighted by the first ever Batman goodbye.

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, sadness!

 **Notes:** This one has been driving me crazy for days. HUGE thanks to FallHarvst for giving it a solid Beta read and saving me from tearing out my hair in unattractive clumps!

Chapter 28 is written, and I need to proof it...29 is also a majorly important chapter and I need strength to tackle that one,

...Reviews would help, lol ;)

(now I'll stop shamelessly begging and let you get to it!)

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

* * *

I was awake. The damp sheets stuck to my lower back my whole body flushed with sweat. My nightshirt was twisted around my ribs, the top sheet bound around my hips like rope as if I'd been rolling in endless circles for the last hour. My comforter was missing, probably somewhere on the floor. I lay panting staring wide eyed at the age stained ceiling in the darkness while my heart raced.

The nightmare I'd just woken from left an unsettling churning anxiety fluttering through my stomach leaving me slightly queasy. I could taste bile on the back of my throat like I'd been on the verge of throwing up moments before. I blinked staring into the darkness searching my mind for clues, _What was I dreaming?_

I struggled to remember, wondering if I should be grateful based on the sick feeling left in its wake that I was drawing a blank. Giving up after a few moments I kicked the blankets off my legs, and crawled off the bed stooping to grab the comforter and tossing it back onto the rumpled mess on the mattress. I moved through the darkness into the bathroom to brush my teeth and splash some cool water on my face.

I turned on the faucet and bent over the sink pausing at the scrapping sound coming from outside the bathroom doorway. I shut off the water and moved to the open doorway of the bathroom staring out into the studio apartment trying to locate the sound.

 _Please don't tell me I have mice—or Rats, weren't the rats in New York supposed to be the size of cats_? I shuddered and grabbed my hairspray off the counter behind me—not that I thought that would deter a rat from trying to eat my face.

 _Great._ That thought certainly didn't make my heartbeat any slower!

The scratching sound came again, this time with a metallic click. _What the hell would make that sound? Were they on my counter top chewing my microwave?_ _That didn't make sense._ _I was positive rats didn't eat metal._

The click sounded again, this time more of a metal _Snicht_ sound I instantly recognized from years of being hyper aware of that exact sound. The deadbolt on my front door was turning slowly.

The bolt of fear and the raised hairs on the back of my neck told me it wouldn't be Ranger on the other side.

Before I could react the locks tumbled and clicked open and door swung inward with a groan worthy of a horror movie soundtrack. The bright lights from the building's hallway back-lit a giant figure of a man the size of Tank. I couldn't make out any facial features but my eyes locked on the knife in his hand and I couldn't pull them away. I screamed and threw the hairspray can at him slamming the door to the bathroom and locking it.

Something heavy and solid hit the other side with a barbaric rage a split second later—and kept slamming into it. I screeched at the top of my lungs praying someone would hear me and call the cops or come help, frantically pawing through everything on the top of my counter and underneath praying I'd find something to defend myself with—why didn't I have a gun or a knife or a taser in my bathroom?!

If I lived through this I'd sleep with a gun under my pillow every day for the rest of my life!

Hysteria bubbled up out of my throat and I sobbed as the door blew open flying off the hinges and sending splintered shrapnel of door frame sailing through the air. I could see his outline filling the doorway, the glint of light on the knife blade that came from no source I could identify—it seemed to glow in the dark. He charged into the room with an animalistic roar. In the space of a scream he was on me.

We fell backwards onto the cheap linoleum, the impact knocking the air from my lungs like a fist to the gut. I tried to scream but no sound would come. I gasped soundlessly and scrabbled with the hand holding the biggest knife I'd ever seen over my head. It seemed to grow in size as I watched transfixed, the blade's wicked point growing steadily closer despite my grip on his arms. I twisted my head trying to keep the sharp edge from my face, trying to find extra space that didn't exist because I was trapped against the floor and there was nowhere to go…I squeezed my eyes tight and shoved with all my might grunting with the effort and the miniscule amount of air left in my lungs.

He laughed sitting on my chest, voice distorted and warbling, "This one's for you baby!"

My grasp on his wrists was slipping, my palms too sweaty to hold on. His arm jerked free and I watched in horror as the blade dropped towards me. This was it, my eyes flew open and lying next to me inches from my face where my bathroom cabinet should have been was Ember's slashed and battered face blood matted curls, one blue eye identical to mine still perfect and staring back at me vacant and glassy. I opened my mouth and screamed.

I jerked awake, my entire body flailing in a painful spasm of sleep induced terror. My heart beat was pounding in my ears and I couldn't catch my breath. I bolted up gasping and tried to get off the bed, almost falling on my face with the damp tangled sheets twisted around my lower legs like a vice. I savagely kicked my foot loose after a few attempts snarling in frustration and sat on the edge of the bed scrubbing my hands over my face trying to slow my breathing.

 _Fuck_. This was the fifth or sixth time since falling asleep I'd had the same disturbing nightmare. Only the attacker kept changing, sometimes I couldn't see him at all like the dream I'd just had; his features lost in the darkness. Twice he'd worn the face of the cabbie that attacked me. And for one petrifying and distressing round earlier tonight it had been Joe that broke down the door.

I shook my head and tried to take a few deep breaths. For some demented reason my brain kept dredging up the same scenario over and over, even if it couldn't settle on a player. I leaned over and picked up my cellphone, somehow miraculously still on the bed near my sweat damp pillow despite my obvious tossing and turning tonight. I hit the button to illuminate the screen in the dark.

 _2:53 am_.

No way was I calling Ranger this late at night for something as silly as nightmares. I was an adult not a little girl, I could handle this. He needed sleep, whether he would admit it or not. I'd kept him up enough the last week worrying about my safety. I wasn't about to admit I didn't feel safe even when I was asleep. Disgusted with myself I tossed the phone behind me, hearing it land with a muffled thump on the mattress somewhere in the tangled sheets. If it wasn't in my hand I wouldn't be tempted to call. Ranger did not need any more examples of how pathetic I was, I was trying to present a new image to him—calling at 3am because I had bad dreams certainly wouldn't help!

I hauled myself up and stomped to the bathroom turning on the water with a snap of my wrist. The faucet squeaked in protest at the abuse but spit out a cold stream of water I bent to splash on my face. I leaned my hands against the edge of the sink letting the water run and stared down myself in the mirror, the features of my face softened by the nightlight to my left just inside the door—a feature that hadn't appeared in my nightmares; everything had been black as pitch except the glowing knife.

I shuddered and shut off the water, trying to be a little nicer to the ancient plumbing before grabbing the hand towel off the hook and blotting the water from my face breathing the lingering lavender scent in slowly.

 _What the hell was my problem,_ _too much Thai food?_

The last few weeks my nightmares had featured the same rotating rolodex of imagery. Something horrible happening to Ranger, though admittedly that one was not new and had haunted me even before this mess popping back up over the years and increasing in frequency anytime Batman went in the wind. That one I at least knew how to handle—sort of. The latest horrors on endless screenplay were a mixture of finding Von and Ember's bodies broken and bleeding in the alley way behind the club. Finding them and having the killer attack me before I could get back inside and escape—an ending that was similar to the one I'd been repeating tonight. And by far the worst yet was when I dreamed of going to work and finding Tamsin, Alicia and every one of the girls murdered with the same sadistic brutality he'd displayed with Yvonne and Em—this nightmare always ended with the same message that came with the flowers written in their blood on the wall for me to find.

A shiver crawled up my spine breaking my skin out in gooseflesh and prickling the back of my neck.

 _Stop it Stephanie!_ I was never going to get any sleep. Maybe I should just go back to reading that stupid book. I threw the towel into the sink and stomped out of the bathroom and froze like a deer in the headlights.

The walls in my apartment are thin—If my neighbors were watching TV I could tell what channel. The door wasn't much better; despite being metal it didn't insulate much, and it wasn't well sealed on the bottom since it lacked any kind of weather stripping being an internal door.

The hall floor creaked and in the stillness of night it sounded like someone was standing right outside my door. My heart leapt into my throat and adrenaline flooded my bloodstream like a dam burst. I stood stone still in panic staring at the barely visible outline of my door. _Please don't open, please don't open_.

The thin sliver of light under my door fluttered, and there was a metallic scraping sound that made me jump and race back into the bathroom so fast I slammed into the door handle hard enough that I felt like I'd broken my hip. Limping on one leg and gritting my teeth I whirled to stare at the door less then fifteen feet away, ready to slam the flimsy hollow pressboard door that I knew like in my dream would be as much of a barrier as tissue paper.

The only sound was my shallow breathing. I reached blindly with one hand to the countertop grabbing the first thing my hand landed on… my hairbrush.

 _Fucking Great Stephanie, that will be so helpful_! _I could style him to death! Why didn't I have a gun? Stupid Davis refusing me a special permit!_

Seconds ticked by while my heart pounded frantically against my throat.

The seconds stretched into a minute.

And another.

My hip was aching. I was going to have one hell of a bruise tomorrow—if I didn't have one already. It felt like it was going to be a whopper, one of those black and red and purple ones that resembled the cosmos. Another minute stretched into what felt like eternity, while I strained my senses listening. Another minute ticked by with no other sounds outside the hall, but the shadow remained under the door taunting me. I set the hairbrush down on the counter and tried to limp as quietly as possible towards the door straining to hear anything on the other side. I reached the door and leaned my ear against it, nothing.

 _Maybe it was my imagination_. One of my neighbors coming home late. The little hairs on the back of my neck were still standing on end. _Why the hell didn't I have a peep hole on this blasted door?_ I was going to suggest one to management first thing tomorrow morning.

I listened for another few minutes before slowly unbolting the door and leaving the chain engaged, I opened it a crack peering out into the empty hall.

No dark shadows, no big hulking homicidal maniacs with knives. I blew out a breath and felt my stomach crawl out of my throat and slide back under my ribs where it belonged. I started to shut the door and something brushed my leg.

I shrieked and jerked back hitting my heels on the wall behind me losing my grip on the door handle and nearly falling over. I braced a hand against the wall catching myself just in time and blinked at the sliver of light coming through the outline of the door from the hallway—there was definitely something cloth-like poking through the crack. _Did someone lean something against my door? Or hang something on my door knob?_ I stepped towards the door again, pushing it closed with one hand just enough that I could release the chain and cautiously pulled it open peering around the edge.

My heart stopped, and when it started again it felt like it shot right out of my chest.

 _No._

 _No, no no…wake up Stephanie, wake up. Wake up, this isn't real, this isn't…_

My hand reached out without my brain telling my body to move, I was stuck on autopilot again like back in that God forsaken alley way. My fingers brushed the material and it didn't disappear, it was real. The same soft cotton scattered with small picks in its weave, the color faded with age and wear.

 _Ranger's Jacket._

Ranger's jacket was hanging on my doorknob. My brain was whirling, thoughts going a mile a nanosecond in my head. _Maybe Ranger knew I lost it even though I hadn't said anything? Maybe he came to New York and found it, brought it back to me…maybe Tamsin went to the park and got it…_

 _Maybe someone really was following me and saw me lose it._

My hand had closed over the hood draped on the knob. I lifted it up and grasped the sleeve with one hand opening the folds in the material so it hung flat and lifting it to stare at the crest on the front in disbelief.

 _Definitely Ranger's jacket, but_ _how could the jacket be here? It had to be Ranger, it had to be…Except I hadn't even told him I lost it, or that I was wearing it!_ The tacky dampness under my fingers snagged at my attention, _And why was it wet?_

I let go of the hood and sucked in a breath. The fingertips of my hand were stained a faint reddish brown not made by rain or water.

I stared closer at the jacket shaking my head in denial slowly turning it around in my hands paying closer attention to the fabric itself and not just it's sudden appearance. I let out an exclamation and dropped it onto the floor staggering backwards into the wall of the hallway outside my apartment.

The back of the jacket was covered in a dark staining that could only be one thing. I'd seen it enough, and washed enough of it out of my clothes to be sure. Even on the faded black background it was obvious.

 _Blood_.

Ranger's jacket was covered with it. Ranger didn't leave it here—Ranger would never leave me a blood soaked anything. A sob tore out of my throat and my heart leapt into overtime. _Run Stephanie, get out of here, he followed you, he knows where you live!_ _They couldn't keep me safe, it would be just like my nightmare only this time it would be real, and I'd be dead…_ _I had to get to Ranger. I had to get out of here!_

I hit the stairwell door at the far end of the hall and raced down eight flights to the lobby door before I had even processed that I was moving. Everything was a blur of sound and movement, I couldn't stop crying. I reached the lobby and flew out into the sidewalk. There was a cab cruising down the street and no other traffic in sight. All I focused on was the dome light indicating it was in service and open.

I bolted into the street waving my arms frantically at it. The driver slammed on the breaks hard enough the tires smoked and squealed missing me by less than a foot. I wrenched the back door open and flung myself inside slamming the door behind me with a grunt still staring wide eyed at the building expecting to see the outline of a man and his knife in the doorway of the lobby coming after me.

"Are you…"

I twisted towards the unexpected voice, completely forgetting the driver in my panic letting out a startled sound. He stared at me wide eyed, he had close cropped hair that had gone grey ages ago and smile lines engraved into his weathered face. He wasn't smiling now, and the look of grave concern clearly etched in the lines of his face as he took me in was a small comfort—It looked genuine at least.

"Miss, Are you alright?" He jerked his gaze to the door of the building before moving back to me, a hard set to the lines of his face suddenly.

"Just Drive, please!" I gasped clasping my hands between my bare knees frantically twisting my head to look up and down the street. I couldn't stop shaking.

The cab started down the street and the driver's voice filtered through the divider. "Do you need the police? Are you hurt? Is someone after you?"

 _The police? The word buzzed around in my head without meaning._ _Joe was the police, but I didn't want Joe—I wanted Ranger._ "Ranger, I need Ranger." My teeth were chattering, but I didn't think I was cold. Regardless the driver noticed and reached out and turned on the heat redirecting the vents towards the back of the cab.

"Miss, where do I find Ranger?"

"Trenton, he's in Trenton…" I gasped.

"New Jersey?" His gaze flashed to me in the rear view mirror.

I nodded jerkily and rubbed my hands against my legs belatedly realizing I didn't have on any pants. I didn't have my purse, or my phone…panic clawed at my throat in a sound I'd never made in my life.

"Sweetie, did someone hurt you?"

I shuddered trying not to look at the blood still staining my palm, and shook my head no. But someone had died today. I bit my lip and tears pooled in my eyes, was it the homeless guy I'd scared the crap out of, or some random woman in the park…one of the other dancers? "Oh god…"

"Was someone _trying_ to hurt you and you got away?"

Yvonne and Ember's lifeless bodies flashed through my mind and I let out a whimper, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood trying to keep from sobbing, gasping for air through clenched teeth, my head spinning.

"It's okay, it's okay," his voice was soft and low drifting over the seat. "Just breathe dear, take a deep breath. There you go. I'll get you to Ranger. Do you have an address? Can you tell me what street it's on?"

I rattled off the street address in a wobbly voice and watched him pull out a GPS from the floorboard at the next stop light and type it in. He glanced in the rearview mirror once more before setting it on the dash. "You sure you don't want me to take you to the police?"

I'm sure he noticed I wasn't dressed, my hair was loose and had already been tangled around my head like I'd been standing in a wind tunnel, in the mirror when I'd woken up; and that was before I'd raced down eight flights of stairs at a dead run. I'm sure I looked as frightening as I felt.

"No, Ranger." _I just needed Ranger. The police hadn't exactly helped me before; they'd got me into this mess in the first place!_

"Okay, Ranger in Trenton it is; Don't worry dear. No one's going to hurt you now. You're safe."

I nodded jerkily—but I didn't feel safe. I wouldn't feel safe until I was on seven in Ranger's arms.

Driving from New York to Trenton without traffic jams and snarls takes an hour and twenty minutes. At this hour we were almost the only car on the road on most streets, and by some strange luck we hit only green lights. Apparently something in my life _could_ go right. There was no traffic in the tunnel and we sailed through to New Jersey in record time.

I'd stopped shaking so hard my teeth rattled after about twenty minutes in the car and a wave of exhaustion had washed over me leaving me limp and strung out. I'd fought to keep from closing my eyes, resting my head against the seat back and keeping watch of the scenery and streets as we past them waiting to see familiar roads and buildings I recognized.

Every time I closed my eyes—even for a moment I kept seeing their bodies on the street, the blood soaked jacket left in my hall, the blood on my hands. My skin itched thinking about it and I scrubbed my palms over my thighs before giving up and wrapping them around my middle fisting my hands in Ranger's oversized shirt bunching the soft material against my skin.

The farther I got from New York the better I thought I'd feel—it worked that way for a while. But oddly the closer we got to Rangeman the more keyed up I started to feel again. As we sailed down empty streets I knew by heart and around turns I could drive in my sleep my sense of nervous anxiety increased. By the time we turned onto Haywood drive I was shaking again, desperate to get out of the cab and race upstairs to safety. I couldn't have been more terrified if the entire Slayers gang were alive and following us down the street. My fingernails were digging into the backseat beneath my bare legs hard enough I might have left claw marks in the vinyl. When the building came into view I felt like I was hyperventilating and the cab driver spoke again startling me so severely I jumped and gave a frightened squeak.

"You sure Ranger will be here at this Hour?"

I nodded emphatically curls bouncing into my face. I raised a trembling hand and shoved them back behind my ear willing them to stay.

"Okay, I'm going to park in front of the doors, you go straight in—do you need me to go in with you? This doesn't look like an apartment building…"

"It's a security firm." I gasped. Someone was always here. _God, why couldn't I stop shaking again, what the hell was wrong with me?_

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him nod his head. "Okay Miss, I hope this Ranger can help you."

I put my hand on the door knob eyes locked on the warm golden light coming through the glass doors of the lobby and a sudden thought struck me though he hadn't said a word. "Money," I croaked guilt crashing through me _. I'd have to ask Ranger for money he'd just driven me over an hour outside the city…_

He was shaking his head. "No. I got a daughter. I don't know what happened tonight but if someone hurt my baby girl I'd want someone to help her. You go inside; I'll wait til you're in, unless you want me to wait?"

I shook my head trying to communicate he didn't need to wait; I was safe here, it felt like the only safe place in the world. "Thank you," I could barely get the words out of my throat my voice was so tight but he nodded in response.

He had slowed the cab and true to his word stopped with my door right against the sidewalk directly across from the glass doors to the lobby. I hadn't come in this way in a long time since I had my own key fob for the parking garage. I didn't have the key fob now, which meant I couldn't push the elevator button to take me directly to seven either. _Stairs, I'd have to take the stairs_ , I could handle that—hopefully by the time I got to the top I'd stop shaking so Ranger didn't freak out and call Bobby or try to take me to the hospital.

The moment the cab stopped I hurdled out of the backseat twisting around to shut it behind me before bolting the two steps over the illuminated rectangle of sidewalk heralding the double doors. I had a split second hesitation before I pushed wondering if they might be locked and I was going to have to convince some contract worker I'd never met on the other side to let a half-naked, blood stained crazy woman shaking like a drug addict into a secure building at 4am. I didn't love those odds, they certainly weren't stacked in my favor. Luckily that didn't happen. The door opened quickly and quietly with my forceful shove.

The chilling blast of AC hit my bare skin and goosebumps broke out across my arms and legs as I darted through the door letting it drop behind me. I glanced at the desk but could only see the backside and top of someone's shoulders—obviously bent half under the desk pulling something out of one of the shelves there. He hadn't seen me and I wasn't sure if I knew him. I didn't want to be delayed forever getting upstairs so I didn't bother to stop. Certainly the guys on Monitor Duty would see me, it wasn't like I was sneaking into the building—I got out of a taxi and came through the freaking front door!

I rushed across the lobby; my bare feet were as close to silent as I'd probably ever moved in my life on the decorative black and white carpet emblazoned with the initials _RM_ centered on the marble floor. I hit the stairwell door a split second after coming through the front, I shoved it open just as silently and then I was racing up the stairs the back of Ranger's shirt billowing behind me like a cape.

I'd reached the third floor landing when the stairwell door to the Lobby banged against the wall like a gunshot reverberating through the stairwell. I shrieked and my heart skipped a beat. I heard the heavy footfall of boots on concrete steps and a voice barked, "STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Alarm shot through me and I stumbled on the step catching myself on the railing before yanking myself upright and rushing on.

 _I couldn't stop; I had to get to Ranger!_

The voice didn't sound like anyone I knew either, what if he threw me out of the building in the middle of the night? I had no clothes, no phone, no ID, no way to prove who I was…if they threw me outside even for a few minutes before someone hopefully took the chance of waking Ranger up anyone could snatch me off the street in my defenseless condition— _what if the killer had followed me here too?_ Images of Ranger finding my lifeless bleeding body carved up like a Christmas ham on the sidewalk outside the building twisted my gut in terror.

I leapt up the stairs two and three at a time, flying around the corners praying I didn't trip and fall on my face.

Behind me the boots were getting louder and I heard a bark of "On the Stairwell! Headed your way!"

The door opened in front of me and a dark outline jumped in front of my path, his massive shape the same as the one from my dream, there was something in his hand. I screamed in fear, certain he was going to stab me any second and throw me back down the stairwell. Fear tried to turn me around and send me back down the stairs but I wasn't safe on the streets, or in New York. I knew I had to get to Ranger. He was the only one who could keep me safe, even here!

I slammed into the dark form dropping and driving my shoulder right into his gut just as he reached out to grab me bellowing "STOP!"

We both flew backwards with the force, slamming into the concrete wall behind the stairwell door. His head bounced off the concrete wall and I bounced off a chest that felt like solid rock rattling my teeth and tumbling backwards onto my ass. I scrambled on my hands and knees flipping over and crawling up the next flight of stairs as he slumped down the wall and fell across the landing behind me. I lurched to my feet on the next landing, death grip on the railing, trying to ignore the pain in my hip, and my knee, and my elbow.

Behind me it sounded like the guy who'd run up from the lobby yelling for me to stop the whole time tripped over the guy I'd just knocked unconscious at the same moment the door to the stairwell door flew open smacking into him hard enough to send him tumbling down half a flight of stairs with the impact. Several other men were trying unsuccessfully to shove their way onto the stairwell through the now narrowed foot of space between the solid body blocking the door and the wall. A lot of cursing and swearing echoed off the walls around me mixed with threats to shoot and orders for me to _Stop NOW_!

It all blended together in a disorienting cacophony of sound echoing inside my head, adding to the blurred confusion and the sheer panic hammering at my insides. I just needed to get upstairs to the cool calm of Ranger's apartment.

I turned the corner on the landing of the sixth floor and one of them had clearly made it off the landing and was pursuing me again because a voice boomed "STOP OR WE'LL SHOOT!" and something pinged off the wall inches from my back seconds later. I screamed in terror tripping and scrambling around the corner certainly not stopping if some nut job was shooting at me!

Somewhere below me someone was bellowing, "DON'T SHOOT! GOD DAMNIT, STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN!" But apparently it was personal for the guy following me now, or he didn't hear the order, or didn't care because he just kept coming!

More boots echoed off the wall behind me sounding like a whole army as I rounded the last turn in the staircase gasping for breath and sobbing, tears streaming down my face and running off my chin. I hit the door hard enough to bruise my other hip and my shoulder and stumbled half falling into the hallway on the Seventh floor grateful it wasn't locked trapping me at the top with the guy trying to kill me. Someone was right behind me I felt a hand snatch at the back of my shirt and I squealed and bolted off the wall twisting towards the direction of Ranger's open apartment door.

It suddenly occurred to me without my fob I couldn't open Ranger's door either…I could do little more than pound on it and hope he opened it quickly before the guy chasing me dragged me away or knocked me out, or whatever they did with intruders they didn't know...I prayed to God Ranger was home and I didn't have to find out. I didn't think it would be a pleasant experience. I'd never been afraid of one of Ranger's men before but right now I was as terrified as I'd ever been.

For some reason the door to Ranger's apartment was standing open as it had never been in the past. I didn't understand why it was open, but I didn't have time to question it with my pursuer hot on my heels. I bolted towards the door running for all I was worth one more panicked thought sliding through the tangled web in my head, _maybe Ranger wasn't here; maybe he was out and they had no idea who I was and they were really going to shoot me…._

As I raced down the hallway the last few feet my bare feet slapping on marble floor a chorus of cursing and heavy boots pounded out of the stairwell behind me still shouting for me to stop. Ranger had to be in his room still, though how he could sleep with all this noise I didn't know. _I just had to get there!_

I dove through the open doorway and then screamed in terror when the Man in Black himself emerged from the darkness from the side of his door. One minute there was nothing but dark empty shadow and then he was suddenly there, separating from the darkness like a panther posed to kill; expression hard and cold, gun in hand pointed right at me. He was bare chested, hair loose around his shoulders wearing nothing but a pair of rumpled cargo pants with a wide V showing a dangerous amount of skin below his perfect abs obviously he'd thrown them on expecting an attack and hadn't bothered to button—or even zip them as they were barely clinging to his narrow hips.

His expression dropped from hostile to open shock in a heartbeat but instead of stopping he moved quicker running the last few steps between us shouting "Stand down!" He had to sense my panic—I mean, it was pretty obvious. Ranger has seen me in enough life threatening situations to read me like a book even if I struggle to return the favor. The fact that I was half naked, bruised and streaked with blood without a hint of makeup on and being chased by half the building into his apartment was probably the dead giveaway.

I didn't stop. I didn't think. Some freaked out terrified logic telling me that if they grabbed me before I reached the safety of Ranger's arms they'd still drag me away. I jumped the last two feet and slammed into his chest, tackling him wrapping my arms and legs around him as tight as possible. He'd braced his weight, dropping one leg back at the last second when I'd leapt at him, but still the impact rocked him backwards a few steps nearly into the wall leading into the kitchen.

His arms wrapped around my back in a crushing embrace the heavy metal alloy of his gun clattering to the floor bouncing on the tile floor near his feet and making me squeak in surprise and cling tighter to his chest hiding my face.

"Babe!" He cupped the back of my head with one hand, crooning something in Spanish against my curls. "Babe you're shaking, why are you running up the stairs? Where are you clothes? What happened?!"

I gasped into the bare skin of his neck breathing him in, a relieved sob squeezing its way out of my throat. The familiar scent of Bvlgari and Ranger surrounded me like a cloud. I dug my fingers into the bunched muscles over his shoulders hard enough my nails would probably leave little half-moon imprints in his skin and burrowed my face into the crook under his neck hiding from the eyes I could feel on the back of my neck.

"Report!" Ranger barked, I jumped and his arms tightened, behind me someone sputtered.

"I, Uh, Sir she came through the lobby and went right up the stairs. She wouldn't stop when we told her to…"

"Why was she running up the stairs?"

"I, Uh….sir?" The guy answering seemed completely baffled by the question.

"What's the threat?" Ranger growled for clarification his hand drifting up and down my back in a steady path while he glared at whoever this guy was over the top of my head.

"Uh," the guy stuttered, "I thought…I mean, I only saw her. I'm sorry sir! No one knew you'd called for a pros…uh female companionship. Or we would have escorted her up."

I couldn't see his face but Ranger's muscles turned to stone under my hands, tension radiating from every pore in his body.

"Did you read your _entire_ employment file Krischic?" Ranger's voice was a snarl I'd never heard before, it sent shivers down my spine and it wasn't even directed at me.

I turned my head so I could peek under Ranger's chin and met the stares of three guys in the darkened apartment I'd never seen before and one I did know; Ram, who was hanging back by the door his cheeks flushed an odd shade of red considering they hadn't run that far and his eyes on the ceiling tiles overhead.

That was _odd_ , part of my brain noted. Until I felt Ranger growl and his hand drop from around my back to slide down my spine. I felt the back of my shirt tug and realized with my legs wrapped around Ranger's waist I was probably giving Ram and these guys I didn't know a fantastic view of my ass!

"Uh Sir?" Krischic looked ready to pass out; the other two were carefully staring past Ranger at the wall behind us.

"Clearly you either failed to read the entire file or you need to learn to pay better attention. Maybe you need your vision checked." It shouldn't have been a threat, but it sure as Hell _sounded_ like a life threatening suggestion. The other two standing beside him paled visibly emphasizing my impression. "You shot at her?" Ranger seemed to be vibrating with barely contained rage his voice dead calm giving me a fresh set of goosebumps.

"As stated Sir, there was nothing in the log about female companionship."

"Let me help you out here, before you get yourself killed." Ram snarled from the doorway sounding only slightly less threatening then Ranger. "That's _Bomber_ , not some whore."

It sounded like Krischic was choking behind me. But the word _whore_ hit me like a slap and I cringed. Ranger's hands slid over my back again his attention clearly on me once more as his voice softened enough it was about to give me emotional whiplash. "Babe?"

Tears leaked out of my eyes splashing against his skin, all I could think about was the moaning on the phone. Ranger had been with someone! I bit my lip and tried to keep in the sob trying to drop my legs from around his waist humiliated and heartbroken all at once. Rangers grip dropped from my lower back where he'd been steadying me to grip my thighs, his fingers squeezing me; holding me in place still wrapped around him.

"Stephanie? Babe, what is it, are you hurt?" Ranger's tone was soft, pleading suddenly. He used one hand to pry my chin up tilting my face out of the crook of his now wet neck. "Babe?"

"You…" my breath shuddered and I bit my lip fighting more tears.

"Babe what? Do you need Bobby? RAM Get Bobby Up here NOW!"

"No! No." I shook my head violently enough I probably lashed Ranger's face with errant curls. The last thing I needed was more witnesses to my humiliation! I felt my lip start to tremble.

"Babe, tell me what it is _right_ now or we're getting Bobby and going to the hospital." His tone was dead serious and I knew if I didn't say something he'd have me downstairs and in an SUV on the way to Saint Francis in minutes—my mother would love that! The 'Burg grapevine would explode after months of famine. Might as well get this over with so my heart could shatter the rest of the way, _like ripping off a Band-Aid Stephanie, just do it!_

My voice faltered a few times and came out whisper quiet "wh...you…you had women up here?" more hot tears brimmed my eyes and I dropped my gaze to his chest unable to stand the intensity in his gaze.

"Only you babe," Ranger's lips pressed to my forehead and he whispered something soft and lilting in Spanish against the side of my head. "Just you."

Confusion and disbelief twisted my insides. "but..."

"Krischic's been on overnight desk duty for the last two weeks because of his _previous_ fuck up." Ranger growled, "Have there been any other women in the building in the last two weeks Krischic?"

"Uh, other than Ella sir,"

Ranger's eyes flashed over my shoulder murderously.

"No! No sir! No other women!"

"See babe, just you." He tucked a curl behind my ear and something in my chest loosened and I felt like I could breathe again. His hand was sliding up my back again no longer holding my thigh in place. "Not that I'm complaining babe, but is there a reason you raided my building at four am other than to molest me in front of my men and climb me like a tree?"

I suddenly realized not only was I still wrapped around Ranger's torso like a bow, the only barrier between my crotch and his rock hard abs a single scrape of cotton; but my hands were running over the muscles of his shoulders, and down his spine—across his chest. _Oops_. I wasn't even sleeping and I was fondling Ranger, in front of his employees no less!

I flushed and tried to lower my legs from his hips again and he shifted his grip again in response placing his hand under my ass hiking me back up sending a shock wave through my center and keeping me in place.

"Babe?"

I struggled with where to start, what to say, and how much. His head tipped forward until his breath brushed the shell of my ear, "Babe, say something or I'm going to assume you came here and threw yourself at me half naked in my doorway because you want me to take you to bed and you just couldn't wait another minute."

"I do…I mean," I stammered for a moment flushing hard and fast. "I had a nightmare, several…but the last one right before I woke up, God it was awful Ranger." I whispered his name at the end tightening my arms around his neck, just clinging to him.

His hands smoothed from my backside up to my spine, tracing over me gently, soothingly nothing sexual in the gentle stroke of his fingers over my shirt despite the fact that I was pressed against him like a second skin. It was amazing to me how he could do that; translate so much with a simple look or touch.

"Babe? What happened when you woke up?" Somehow Ranger knew just nightmares wouldn't send me over an hour out of the city in the dead of night dressed in nothing but a shirt and underwear. I guess he knew even my finely honed ability to deny and pretend nothing was wrong had a limit. The last time I'd come running to Ranger was during the Slayers incident he'd mentioned on the phone.

I pulled in an unsteady breath and unwound one of my arms trying to tuck the other curls hanging in my face behind my ear when Ranger's eyes widened a fraction and he grabbed my wrist, twisting my palm so he could see it barking, "Ram! Lights!"

I blinked at the sudden brightness after the dark of Ranger's apartment.

"This is blood." Ranger stated staring at the dark staining still visible on my hand his eyes flicking back to mine. "Babe, are you hurt?" He started turning my hand over, his gaze moving up my arm searching for the source. I pulled my wrist firmly out of his hold shaking my head. _If I didn't tell him now he might call Bobby anyway and strip me naked searching for wounds._ Even my strung out and over taxed nerves were apparently still capable of a small hot flash at the thought of Ranger strip searching my body…

"Not with an audience babe, not even Bobby gets to see that."

 _Okay, make that a serious hot flash_. Ranger's tone had gone low and growly and I was positive it wasn't anger this time as I watched his eyes darken and my stomach summersaulted under my ribs in response. I swallowed and shook my head.

Ranger found his voice before I did. "This isn't your blood?" Apparently Ranger felt the need to be certain.

I shook my head no again, "Your jacket, it was covered in it."

Confusion flashed through his eyes. "You thought I was hurt?"

"No, he left it for me…I lost it today in the park, this homeless guy grabbed me—that's why I was running when you called!" Ranger's grip tightened on my back and his expression darkened with anger as I rushed on. "I let him keep the jacket so I could get away. I wanted to go back for it because it was yours—but he was yelling all these crazy things and it freaked me out so badly I didn't do it, and then I had this terrible dream that he was in my apartment and I woke up and someone was outside my door and it was there!"

"What was there babe?"

"Your jacket! He _knows_ where I live; and he left it for me but it was soaked in blood and I think he killed someone! There was so much of it, and I panicked and I didn't know what to do!"

"The homeless guy?" Ram questioned from behind us and I turned to look at him already shaking my head no—because there was no way it could be the homeless guy when I realized something else. I leaned farther back against Ranger's embrace staring at the entry way behind Ram feeling my forehead scrunch in confusion.

I thought the door to his apartment was open—but it just wasn't there. I turned to stare wide eyed back at Ranger who was still watching me intently. "You still don't have a door."

Ranger blinked and his lips twisted up in the hint of a grin at my sudden change of topic from serious to structure. "Tank broke it down in under four minutes." He pointed out. "If he'd actually been hostile that's unacceptable." He sobered at that thought, any hint of humor gone. "I special ordered a superior one."

 _What the hell was stronger than a steel door, a bank vault?_

By the door Ram snorted and I turned to look at him wondering what was funny, and if I said that out loud then something else caught my attention. I blinked staring at the missing steel frame work that used to hold the door and realized there was exposed metal visible just inside the drywall. The inside looked like it was lined with plate metal _._ I didn't know much about construction but that didn't look normal to me.

"Why is your wall metal?" I asked still staring at it and by the doorway Ram bit back a grin as well.

"Bullet proof." He answered assuming that I was asking him rapping his knuckles against the surface behind his back for emphasis.

 _Ranger had bullet proof walls in a secure building, and I'd fought him kicking and screaming over a floor bolt when people were actively breaking into my apartment on a regular basis._

I sighed and leaned forward pressing my head against his shoulder again.

One of us needed to seriously re-evaluate our lives, trouble was—lately I'd been thinking the one that needed the swift kick in the pants was _me._ Behind my back someone cleared their throat.

"Do you need anything else Sir?"

I tensed once more, _I'd completely forgotten about the other guys in the room._

"No." Ranger said clearly dismissing them. "Krischic!" Ranger barked a moment later making me jump and Ranger's eyes darkened flicking to my face, the heat in his expression made me flush.

"Sir?"

Ranger's eyes left mine and narrowed. "Tomorrow we're going to discuss your failure to follow SOP and you're all due in conference at 1500 to discuss how someone who might have been a threat made it through the lobby, and up seven flights of stairs without an appropriate response."

"Yes Sir," Krischic sounded a little strangled again. Someone muttered _"_ _Shit," and_ I heard several pairs of boots moving quietly on the tile and a ding from the elevator door as it opened. From inside the elevator I heard "And you can meet my ass on the Mats at 0500 because it sure as _Hell_ isn't going to be Ranger that has all the fun," if anything else was said it was lost as the doors slide closed.

 _I hadn't meant to get anyone in trouble!_

"It's not his fault." I pointed out staring up at Ranger. "He was getting something under the desk when I ran through the lobby _!" I didn't realize they were all going to freak out like they did_ , if it had been anyone else in the building—Cal or Zip or Hal or ANY of the normal Merry Men it would have been fine. Trust me to show up the one night Rangeman was full of contract or new hires I'd never met before!

"And if you'd had a gun?" Ranger prompted one eyebrow lifting.

 _If I'd had a gun I could have shot him in the back of the head before he knew I was there._ The thought of the same thing happening to Vince, or Woody or Les turned my stomach.

 _"_ Which is unacceptable, I accept that I could lose men on a covert mission or in a field operation—I won't accept sloppy performances and blatant stupidity that could get them killed on desk duty inside my own building."

Ranger lifted a hand as he was explaining and pushed the curls back from my face again cupping my cheek in his warm palm. I leaned into the touch on reflex breathing in the scent of is skin reveling in the smooth uncovered expanse under my hands. "His failure to recognize it was you, and their excessive use of force is inexcusable; babe they could have killed you. He's lucky I didn't terminate him on the spot." His eyes flashed dangerously and I wondered briefly if he meant firing him or shooting him.

"Now. Tell me what's going on babe,"

"I just did." I stammered.

Ranger shook his head once fixing me with a hard gaze. " _No_. You didn't want me involved and I was trying to respect that to a point, but you're here in the middle of the night. You left New York so panicked you didn't even put pants on, Stephanie! Even during the Slayers mess you remembered to get _dressed_. Something else happened. Something you wouldn't tell me last time, something put the target sole on _you_ and I want to know what it is." His expression hardened and his voice was tinted with anger when he continued. "Explain to me how you went from working with the FBI and NYPD in what was supposed to be a controlled and monitored environment looking for a violent offender to someone leaving blood soaked gifts on your doorstep."

"Last night I find out they're not even securing you to and from critical access points, and now there's no monitor at your location?"

"I found them." My voice cracked.

"Found who babe?"

"Yvonne and Ember…The last two…I went outside to get them at the club…it was Ember's birthday and he killed them Ranger, he was there in that alley and…oh god I just…I… Ranger they're dead. They're really dead….I found them all cut up and…just…just _I…I_ …I couldn't do anything about it!" I was sobbing now. Big unattractive snot producing sobs against Ranger's bare chest. "I was supposed to stop this from happening and I didn't!" I wailed. "They're dead because of me!"

Anyone else would have put me down, handed me a box of tissues or sent me to the bathroom to get my shit together—God only knows how uncomfortable Joe would have been with me crying like this. I couldn't even imagine. But not Ranger. He only held me tighter turning to leave the open doorway of his apartment after a quick detour to flip off the lights plunging us into inky darkness. He moved back into the cool pressing dark of his room, a place that always felt like a sanctuary. All the while carrying me with one hand cupped under my butt and the other around my back rubbing circles soothingly as if I weighed no more than a small child that needed comforting.

I recognized we'd arrived in his bedroom because he shut the door behind us with a soft click. I guess the bedroom door was easier to replace then the apartment one.

He was stroking my back again, smoothing back my hair and shushing me gently, murmuring soft words in Spanish against my ear in a low voice while I cried against him clinging to his shoulders. I felt the bump as he sat on his bed scooting back against the headboard and just cradling me now straddled across his lap.

I'm not sure how long I cried for—long enough that my head pounded hard enough to make me wince in pain My nose was running unattractively down my face. When I'd quieted down to shuttering breaths and the occasional hiccupped gasp as my lungs fought to return to normal breathing patterns Ranger kissed my forehead unwinding my arms from around his shoulders and kissing my knuckles.

"One moment Babe, I'll be right back."

I nodded mutely still fighting to breathe normally and not trusting myself to speak as he shifted me off his lap and got off the bed hitching his pants up from their precarious position dangerously low on the curve of his ass he buttoned them without the zipper keeping them in place but leaving a tantalizing gap of Mocha latte perfection as he crossed the room to the on suite.

I heard the water click on for a moment and then shut off and he emerged a second later carrying a glass in one hand, something square tucked under his arm and something obviously clasped in his other closed hand I couldn't make out in the dark.

He set the glass on the night stand first and handed me the box, "Blow."

I grabbed a few tissues and blew my nose wrinkling my forehead when he held his hand out for the used ones. "Ranger…"

"Babe," he took them from my hand and tossed them on the nightstand somehow without looking disgusted before taking what turned out to be a cold wet wash cloth and pressing it with an open firm hand against my face.

The sudden icy cold felt amazing against my puffy eyes and no doubt beat red skin. I sighed into the sensation just letting the chill calm my nerves for a few moments. Ranger pulled it away when it started to warm to the same temperature as my skin, wiping gently at my eyes and then gently taking my hand and wiping my palm and each of my fingers clean before tossing that too onto the nightstand heedless of damaging the no doubt expensive wood grain with moisture.

He offered me the water glass with just the simple instruction to "Drink," and I finished off the whole glass, not realizing I was thirsty until the cool liquid hit my throat. Ranger took the empty glass and went back to the bathroom, returning a moment later with another half full glass of water. He set glass on the nightstand and disappeared into the open closet briefly, rematerializing a moment later in a pair of black silk boxers instead of half-fastened cargos.

He circled to the other side of the bed, the one I thought of as 'Ranger's side' when I stayed here—which was silly since I didn't have a side here. The whole bed was Rangers and I was just an interloper thrusting myself into his good graces once again because I couldn't deal with my own shit.

"Stop it." Ranger demanded pulling me down and tucking my body against his one warm heavy arm thrown over my side to pull me close, tucking my body firmly against the curve of his.

"Stop what?" I muttered into the darkness.

I felt his lips brush my shoulder, then higher up my neck in the sensitive spot just under my ear making me shiver. " _That_. I want you here. You're always welcome here Steph. In my home, and definitely—" his lips made another deliberately slow shiver rousing path, and his voice dropped to a purring rumble against my body. "—in my bed."

I had to bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. Ranger didn't need encouragement like that, and I was dangerously close to ripping both our clothes off without any help—not that Ranger was wearing much... _oh fuck_. If he kept kissing me I might forget all the reasons that a Ranger Induced Orgasm was a terrible idea and say fuck it…

 _Or Fuck me..._

 _Oh God._

 _Stop it Stephanie that's not helping!_

Ranger must have felt me tense, or he could feel my dilemma with his ESP and decided to have mercy on my poor tortured body and mind because he sighed against my ear gave me one more lingering kiss and whispered, "sleep babe, not tonight—not like this."

I felt him settle in behind me, his breathing instantly deep and even—either through Zen like control or some magical ability to instantly will himself to sleep. I was guessing the former—but I sure as hell wasn't going to turn over and see for myself. If I turned to see his gorgeous face I was positive lying here next to him suffering from a serious crash of adrenaline and needing something solid to hold onto I'd start kissing him…and then I'd start touching him…and then….we'd end up very naked really fast and _NOT_ sleeping.

 _I wasn't going there_ , so I should just stop that train of thought right now before I was too frustrated to sleep and I had to visit Ranger's shower massager and Bvlgari gel with him in the next room ready to offer a hand…

 _Oh damn._

 _Okay. Focus on something else Stephanie….take deep breaths, like Ranger._

I matched my breathing to Ranger's as much as I could with the occasional huffing hiccup from my lungs, keeping my eyes closed and just enjoying the close heat of Ranger's body against my back, the weight of his arm comfortingly draped around me, keeping me tucked against his chest.

I felt safe, and wanted…and suddenly so, so heavy I dropped away into a thankfully dreamless sleep _._

 _._

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer : **Not mine!

 **Notes: Huge thanks to Rangergirl1234 and Fallharvst for awesome Beta work! **

Rangergirl helped make this chapter stronger picking out where Steph was

lacking some internal monologue and thanks to her catch I fixed chapter 27,

which was supposed to have a line in it where Ranger uses the wash cloth after

Steph is done crying to wipe her face AND her bloody hand.

 **.**

A lot of readers picked up on the fact that I missed cleaning her up-but

didn't know the line was missing, so it's fixed now in case you want to

re-read 27 as well!

.

 **Anyways, Huge thanks, and Muse cookies to you both!**

 **Happy Weekend Update, I hope you like it!** **:)**

 _-I added a 'page break' here to denote what was originally a chapter split because time passes to save us suffering through a plot rehash. But these two felt like they went together, and so voila! 4/23 ;)_

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight**

* * *

I woke to an empty bed—which wasn't surprising considering the amount of light in the room. I hadn't expected Ranger to be lying around since the sun was already up and the day had started long before I opened my eyes. In my defense I'd had a really rough couple of days. I stretched like a cat, rolling to steal a selfish lungful of the lingering scent of Bvlgari temptation coming from his feather soft pillow. I buried my face in the still indented cotton and breathed deep.

 _Mmm. Yum._

Guess I should get up and stop molesting Ranger's sheets—if I wasn't brave enough to maul the man himself, I should draw a line at his bed sheets. _Yeah right._ I was only a few seconds from drooling on his pillow. I pushed myself up with one arm shoving a mass of sleep wild curls from my face at the same moment the bathroom door opened billowing steam into the room. I hadn't even noticed the shower running, but clearly it had been as I was now eye level with the most amazing bare, water droplet strewn mocha latte chest.

 _Oh My God. Forget the sheets!_ _I wanted to grope that!_ I reminded myself to shut my mouth so I didn't look like a dead fish, and also _breathe Stephanie,_ before I passed out and needed mouth to mouth.

 _I bet Ranger's talented mouth would have extraordinary resuscitation techniques._

 _Mmmm…._

"See something you like babe?" Ranger was teasing me standing ten feet away in nothing but a towel and a 200-watt grin. The image would be fueling my private fantasies and shower massager for a while! I felt a slow smile slide over my features in answer before I shook my dazed head to clear it and dragged my eyes away from his wet chiseled abs and up to his perfect face.

 _'_ _Cause that was sooo much better for my sanity, Not!_

His eyes were still dark this morning, probably because I was eyeing him like a Boston crème and licking my lips. His thick deceivingly soft hair still loose and dripping water on his shoulders, the droplets racing over the rest of his bare skin their path sadly obstructed by the ring of terry cloth at his hips _. If he'd just let go of that towel…_ I bit my lip and groaned and Ranger's eyes went liquid black fixed on my mouth.

 _Mother of God, keep it together Steph_. I sucked in a breath and tried to shrug cavalierly. "If you're into that muscled hunk thing," I offered waving one hand through the air between us hoping he didn't notice my fingers were shaking.

 _Probably he did though, nothing escapes Ranger._

His lips twitched with humor and he moved towards the open closet doorway. The moment his gaze was off me the pressure in the room dropped. I flopped back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling huffing out a lungful of air like a deflating balloon. _Phew! That was close!_

 _A few more seconds and I'd have been across the room licking water droplets off his chest like buttercream frosting!_

Ranger's full throated laugh emerged from the closet seconds before he did—still shirtless, dangerously low unfastened cargos had replaced the dangerously low towel. The open V at the apex of his lower abs once again proving there was nothing but Ranger skin under there. My hormones took note and shot my body temperature up a few degrees.

I tried not to focus on how one little tug of my hand would be all it would take to send those pants sliding down over his fantastic ass and marble sculpture worthy thighs to pool at his equally perfect feet. He'd been dressed the same way last night, but I'd been too distressed to take advantage of it by imaginary flight of fancy or otherwise.

 _Hot. Damn. I really needed that shower massager now!_

"Playing with fire babe," His voice was one octave above _Holy Shit_ and had me instantly teetering on the brink of _panty-destroying –take me now desperation_. I swallowed and Ranger's eyes locked onto the movement of my throat, his eyes darkened to ebony and I had to clench my hands in the satiny soft sheets under my hips to stop myself from beckoning him closer.

"So, what are you doing today?" I tried to keep my voice neutral but wasn't sure I succeeded.

Ranger pulled on a black t-shirt in slow motion practically rolling the damn thing over his rock-hard abs while I tried not to pant. "I have a meeting at 9." He announced in the same rough voice.

I sat up and my eyes flicked to the clock, ten minutes. _Good._ _He just needed to keep putting clothes on and I needed to sit on my hands and remind myself continuously that I couldn't eat him alive in ten minutes no matter how yummy he looked…_ My back hit the mattress with a startled gasp and Ranger's lips crashed into mine.

Someone moaned and the kiss grew more heated. Ranger's fingers tangled in my curls and I jerked away, hissing in pain from my previously abused scalp. Above me Ranger froze, eyes instantly assessing to understand the problem.

"What hurts?"

"My head, the cab driver yanked my hair…I'm just glad I'm not bald." I tried to joke but it fell flat under Ranger's murderously heated glare. The fingers of his other hand flexed into a white knuckled fist he pressed into the mattress beside my head with enough force the muscles in his arms bulged and veins showed. I imagined him doing unspeakable things to the asswipe that assaulted me until he exhausted the rage telegraphed in his posture. He pulled in a deep breath and closed his eyes after a moment collecting himself; the glare was gone when they reopened, replaced by a different kind of heat.

His fingers softened, gliding over my skin gently raking apart curls until I hissed again. Then he drew his hand back placing both on either side of my head against the mattress pushing himself up in a sexual parody of a push up so his whole body hovered over mine, his delicious lips inches from mine. I instantly missed his heat and weight, trying to ignore the stab of disappointment and the flutter of arousal in my stomach. I wanted so badly to lean up and pull that full bottom lip into my mouth, slide my teeth over it—but that was a bad idea for so many reasons.

He pushed back off the bed standing in front of it while I continued lying flat out on my back watching him tuck in his shirt and button his pants and start fastening his open belt, eyes still locked on me—it was like a strip show in reverse and it was wrecking complete havoc on my raging hormones.

He bent to grab one of his boots from the foot of the bed and paused reaching out instead to grip my exposed leg. The gentle pressure of his fingertips caressed my skin just above the ring of stark blue and purple bruises circling my ankle like a macabre anklet. The colored band was stark and glaringly obvious in the bright morning light. His jaw clenched again and one finger traced over the marks whisper soft raising the hairs on my arms. I shivered and felt my panties go damp.

"What did they find on your attacker?" His tone was all business, it took my brain a second longer to stumble into sentence producing territory.

"The taxi company turned over his name, address and employment history to the NYPD—but he didn't show up for work and when they checked his listed apartment his brother said he didn't live there."

Ranger nodded once, his expression hard, eyes boring into mine. "And what are they doing about it?"

My mind was playing mental tennis. Back and forth between the emotions I was sensing and the emotion written across his face. I bit my lip and mumbled. "I don't understand."

"Someone is supposed to be protecting you. How is it that they have you working to attract a serial killer's attention, but no one was following you that night? What if this guy shows up at your apartment again? Or the place you buy doughnuts? I don't think I have to tell you how pathetically easy it is to pick a locked door. Who's running surveillance on you?"

"As far as I know; no one." Once I left the club supposedly safe in a taxi to my apartment no one check up on me or tailed me. I was on my own. Judging by the flare of nostrils Ranger found my answer unsatisfactory.

"If they can't make even a _minimal_ effort towards your safety Stephanie you need to walk away from this."

"I can't…"

"Damnit Stephanie!" Ranger cut me off pacing the room with quick agitated steps still barefoot. "You've helped me enough times get out of really rough situations, so I know you have a big heart and you want to help people! But I was there to watch your back, or one of the guys were there…this is your _life_ we're talking about! That can't be replaced! For fucks sake—they let you get assaulted by a cab driver! And a homeless man! Someone came to your apartment while you were sleeping! You should have a gun! And an undercover officer securing your transportation to and from the location you're most likely to encounter your target! There should be an officer stationed in the apartment next to yours monitoring the entrance 24 hours a day whether you are there or not if not in the apartment _with_ _you_!"

"It's a studio." I pointed out stupidly. _Where the Hell would they sleep?_

"They wouldn't! They'd be protecting your life while you did!" Ranger growled, leaning over me again. "What's to stop this guy from posing as a cab driver, how do you know the cab driver _wasn't_ the guy?! They know _nothing_ about this killer except his shoe size and his victim preference!"

I nearly sputtered. "How do you know that?"

"You're in New York City Stephanie, not Russia! It wasn't hard to pull up the NYPD homicide case list—and only two of them have active FBI involvement."

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal to hack the police database."

"It's also piss poor form to leave your colleague's ass twisting in the wind! I know you want to help babe—I can understand that, they asked you for help as a civilian and that's unusual to say the least! I can even admire your willingness to put yourself out there to help stop this guy. But this case is a _shit_ _show_! The feds and PD are so wrapped up in their pissing contest over jurisdiction and credit they're barely getting the job done! I don't want you to end up as collateral damage and nothing more than a footnote in someone's docket because they can't get their shit in-line!"

I stared down at the sheets fisted in my hands. "I understand what you're saying, but…"

"No! _No,_ _Stephanie_ , clearly you _don't_ because there is no _BUT_ here. All the resources at my disposal, everything I've offered you; if you won't walk away, why won't you let me help you? Let me call and offer contract workers, a private tail to keep you secured—something, anything!"

"I don't want the guys following me all over the place and watching me dance!" The guys were my friends, they'd seen me through numerous distraction jobs and unflattering situations…but I didn't think I could focus on the task at hand—on singling out this guy if they were shadowing me everywhere. They were all really big muscular great looking men…that would be so awkward, on so many levels—I had to see these guys when this mess was over too!

"If you can't accept simple cautionary measures, and they aren't providing them what the _Hell_ are you doing Stephanie?"

"Ranger…"

His fingers locked around my arms hauling me up to my knees so we were nearly face to face, noses inches apart. "No babe! Listen to me! _Do you Want to die?!"_ His grip tightened on my arms. "This isn't picking up Dougie or Mooner or staking out a beach house as a favor to a friend." He gave me a pointed look reminding me of the Ramos case where I'd done the exact opposite of what he'd told me and got myself in deep doo doo.

 _Of course I'd also gotten a marriage proposal out of that mess._

 _To a Greek mob boss—but still, I didn't get a lot of offers._

Ranger growled his breath puffing across my lips. "Babe, this man will kill you, not slap you around, not throw left over take-out at you and call your mother to tattle. He's a _killer_ babe," His hand reached out to stroke my curls back from my face giving one a brief affectionate tug so it sprang back into place against my cheek. "He targets beautiful young women with brown curly hair and blue eyes." His palms cupped my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones.

"I know that." I whispered.

"Do you? Do you really? Has it sunk in? Because when you push me away I worry that you're letting emotion cloud your decisions, and I can't bear to lose you Stephanie. I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me."

I felt my shoulders slump. "It's not that simple," I really wish it was; I was long past the point of wanting help, I just didn't know how, or if it was even possible to tangle Ranger up in yet another of one of my messes!

"Let me make it that simple. I'll handle the details. I'll call up your initial contact—whoever approached you about the case originally and work form there. With my resources, they have to say yes."

I bit my lip—warring over the decision. Once it was made, I couldn't take it back. Ranger could get involved and this could all blow up in my face. My mind flashed back to the sheer terror I'd experienced in my apartment, and in the back seat of that cab. I don't ever want to feel like that again, I needed help—more help than Davis or Tamsin could offer me. Part of me recognized it even last night in the throes of hysteria—I'd run to Ranger. I couldn't keep him out of this any longer. I couldn't risk another life being taken by this madman and I especially didn't want that life to be mine.

Ranger was waiting me out silently. I raised my eyes to his and nodded slowly and his shoulders relaxed a fraction. _He wanted to get involved great, I needed help._ _Trouble was I honestly didn't know what name to give him._ _The arresting officer in Newark pulled me off the street, but his partner was the one that read the original charges?_ _Did he need to speak with Davis in New York?_ _Tamsin? Most of my contact was with Tamsin—daily at least; Davis seemed annoyed just talking to me half the time, like I was inconveniencing him with my very existence._ _How would he respond to contact from Rangeman over his precious case?_

Ranger seemed to be waiting for me to speak, his eyes locked intently on my face.

"Um, who would that be _?" I was hoping for a hint, so I'd know which name to give him without sounding like any more of an idiot then I already did._

Ranger blinked. "Someone from New York or the FBI had to bring you in—come to you and ask for you to take this position on a civilian contract, negotiate salary…" Something on my face must have given me away. His expression darkened further and the muscle under his jaw clenched. "Stephanie?"

I swallowed. "Um, my arresting officer…I mean, I guess…"

Ranger let go of me and jerked up to his full height so fast I flinched back, sitting on my heels biting my lip and watching as he pulled his cell phone from his utility belt. He hit a number without taking those deadly black eyes off me. There was practically smoke coming out his ears.

 _If I didn't know better I'd say he was about to throw me out the window._

"Take my meeting." He listened for a moment and growled, "I _wish_ ," then pulled the phone from his ear and hung up with a jab of his thumb, tossing it onto the foot of the bed. He leaned forward onto closed fists on either side of my hips getting right at eye level to stare me down, inches away pinning me in place as if I'd dare to move with the look he was giving me. I suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the guy he was glaring at last night.

I resisted the urge to lean back and squirm. My heart was racing.

"Alright, from the beginning; explain to me _exactly_ how this happened." His tone was dead calm.

Oh, _Shit._

 _._

* * *

.

Saying Ranger was angry was like saying Tank was big, Hector was scary, or Lester was hot—it was a gross understatement in every sense of the word.

Ranger was _enraged_ , Ranger was _livid_ , Ranger was…words seem to pale in comparison to the cold fury vibrating through his entire body. If I didn't know the man standing across from me and trust him with my life I'd have been terrified.

He wasn't screaming or waving his arms like Joe used to when he'd show up at my latest disaster embarrassed to be associated with a woman everyone else regarded as a laughing stock and all around train-wreck. He'd been silent while I'd told him what happened the day I went to apprehend Tyrone Johnson. His jaw set tighter and tighter, hands fisted at his sides, white knuckled by the time I'd finished.

He was silent so long I glanced up at him through my curls wondering if he'd left the room, decided to wash his hands of me completely. He was staring daggers at my head. I swallowed and dropped my gaze, fisted my fingers nervously in the top sheet of the bed waiting for him to start screaming or throw his hands in the air and announce he was done with me.

"So let me get this straight." His eyes locked on me when I glanced up pinning me in place so I couldn't drop my eyes from his if I tried. The muscle in his jaw ticked every time he paused to grind his teeth between words. "You were out on a take down with Lula, on a fugitive that belonged to Rangeman." His eyes flashed dangerously letting me know he planned to circle back to that at some point, "and you had Lula's gun on you. You pursued Johnson when he ran, tripped and dropped the gun and a Newark Police Officer happened to be there. He put you in his car—took you to the station and charged you with carrying concealed, possession of an unlicensed weapon, operating without a license, and not having a tag or insurance on your vehicle."

He stopped and I waited not sure if I should risk speaking yet or remain silent—every time I said something Ranger only got madder. "Yes." I finally admitted quietly when the intensity of his glare felt like it was about to bore holes in the top of my head. "I think that was all of them."

"And they offered you a deal."

"Yes?"

Ranger's eyes flashed and his hands clenched at his sides hard enough to shake. "I'm going to go downstairs," He informed me bluntly and I cringed, "and contact the Rangeman attorney. He'll pull up the charges on record, and the details of your deal and who it's with; then we'll contact the Newark PD, NYPD or FBI—Whoever we have to…Did they Mirandize you?" _He seemed to be thinking out loud almost, if I didn't know better I'd call it rambling. Except that Ranger didn't ramble, and Ranger definitely didn't have an open mouth policy when it came to his thoughts._ _At least he wasn't throwing me out of the building and into the street in my underwear—_

"Stephanie," Ranger growled, "Did they Mirandize you?"

"No, they never read me my rights." I realized as he mentioned it. I was pretty sure if I was under arrest that was important. Joe still carried a little card in his wallet with the exact wording on it—even after years as a cop. "They just put me in the backseat and then locked me in an interrogation room for like six hours." I added.

The muscle in his jaw was clenching again. He pulled in a deep breath. "Alright we can use that; did you ask for a lawyer?"

 _I'd thought about it._

His eyes narrowed. "Did you call _anyone_ to help you?"

My forehead scrunched, "Who the Hell would I call?"

"Joe?" Ranger snarled suddenly.

"We broke up." I pointed out.

"You were under arrest!" Ranger growled logically, though still looking pissed.

"Yeah, in _Newark_ ," _not Trenton! What the Hell could Joe do besides yell at me about my job and how I embarrassed him?_

"You didn't call Tank." He stated already knowing the answer, but I shook my head in agreement anyway. "If I'd been around," he added suddenly his voice harsh and clipped. "Would you have called _me_?"

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. _Would I have called Ranger?_ _It was easy to sit here and say, 'oh sure, I'd have called you the minute I was arrested!' But I probably wouldn't have_ — _I was too embarrassed._

"Babe," Ranger took a breath deep enough to lift his shoulders, raising his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He closed his eyes for a moment. "You don't need to be embarrassed about needing my help. I've come to you several times because I needed help; the only hesitation I ever had in asking was that I didn't want to put you in danger because of me."

"Yeah but—"

"But _what_ Steph?" Ranger cut me off.

 _I wanted to say_ — _yeah but look at you, and look at me! Ranger was Batman! I was just marginally competent, teetering on pathetic more days then I cared to admit._ _If I let myself ask Ranger for help every time I hit a roadblock or pothole in my life we'd never get off the phone and he'd be sick of me in a week!_

"Let's get somethings straight." Ranger growled stalking across the room and grabbing my arms, pulling me up so I was kneeling on the bed again—almost his height, noses inches apart. "You are in no way pathetic, or incompetent, and I will _never_ —" his hand raised to tuck a curl behind my ear again, "— _ever_ " the back of his fingers trailed down the side of my neck to trace over my collar and down my bare arm. His eyes followed the line with intense interest that my stomach fluttered, "—be sick of you."

Tears pooled in my eyes as the words sunk in. "You sure?"

Ranger's lips brushed mine for only a moment before he leaned back gazing down at me with marginally softened eyes. "I'd bet my life on it," he added quietly.

 _He frequently had, and sacrificed some really expensive cars too._ A few tears leaked out and Ranger brushed one away with the back of his fingers.

"Thank you," I managed staring at his shirt, if I kept staring into his eyes I was afraid I'd throw myself at him—or burst into tears, neither of which was particularly helpful at this juncture. Ranger pulled me into his chest wrapping his arms around me and resting his cheek on the top of my head.

"Any time babe, come on." He leaned back again, grabbed my hand and pulled me off of my knees and across the room into the on suite directing me to sit on the closed toilet lid in front of him. He squeezed my fingers once and dropped my hand and opening the shower door, turning on the water. He adjusted the temperature and shut the door again, then turned running his eyes over my whole body slowly.

My nipples reacted to his heated gaze and Ranger's eyes darkened. "The bruises on your ankle, that's from the cab driver?"

I nodded staring at him transfixed as he knelt in front of me on the tile floor suddenly, lifting my foot in his hands and tracing the ring of bruises once more with the pads of his fingers. His hand traveled higher sliding up my calf—to my knee, "And this?" He ran his thumbs gently over my skin, his fingers tickling the back of my knee.

"I got the scrape when I fell running from the cabbie—but the bruise I think is from last night."

"How?" His voice seemed unusually thick.

"What?" His hands were making it hard to think.

"How did you get this last night?" He ordered staring up at me through long dark lashes that would make any woman envious.

"I fell in the stairwell, a few times." My cheeks flushed under his gaze feeling like a klutz.

Ranger muttered something dark in Spanish and continued tracing his hands up my thigh. My body started to hum and I felt my doodah tingle. I bit my lip trying to ignore both, watching in fascination as his fingertips slid all the way up the edges of my thigh, his broad hands practically encircling them to meet the hem of his shirt barely covering my underwear.

My breath gasped out and I dug my fingernails into my palms in anticipation wondering if his fingers were going to slip underneath and keep climbing. The heat of his touch scant millimeters from the lace edge of my panties and the incredible heat building there in response to his touch. I had a moment to think I was damn glad I'd been waxing religiously as a job requirement for the last four months so it didn't matter that I hadn't made it to the shower yet to shave when Ranger lifted his hands off me and I nearly deflated in disappointment.

I sucked in a breath again and something deep in my belly trembled when Ranger turned his attention to my other leg in the same manner. His hands placed high on my thigh just brushing the hem of my t-shirt before starting the same leisurely torture again; letting his warm palms and calloused fingertips travel tantalizingly slow in the opposite direction. He paused briefly to ask me each time he discovered a bump, scratch, or new bruise about its origin, tracing them with his fingertips; obviously adding them to some internal catalogue, though why I didn't know. I was too fascinated watching his dark hands slide over my pale skin to ask. By the time he reached my foot I was in a serious state and glad he was done so I didn't climb into his lap on the floor.

He picked up my right hand next turning it over gently in his hands before brushing his thumb over the fading but still faintly visible bruising inside my left wrist. "And this?" His eyes had been lined with anger, growing more pronounced with each imperfection he came across despite the tender caress of his hands.

"That's…that's from you." I whispered. He'd left the mark when he'd grabbed me in the gym my first night here. I had a matching one on my right, slightly more prominent since he'd grabbed me there the second day as well. Though I didn't blame him, not completely—If I hadn't been trying to yank myself free they probably wouldn't be there; they certainly wouldn't have been so pronounced. Neither of us had been particularly gentle with the other in our anger.

His eyes slid shut and the firm set of his shoulders fell. His fingers ghosted over my wrist longer than the other marks, memorizing them I was sure. He dipped his head and raised my hand to his lips murmuring what sounded like an apology in Spanish, brushing his lips over the ring of fading marks. His tongue touched the pulse point under my skin and my breath caught in my throat. I was starting to feel flushed and a little dizzy—and I didn't think it was the steam spilling over the top of the shower.

His lips trailed up from my wrist and I bit back a moan feeling his thumbs slid up my forearm. He stopped just below my elbow tracing the marks on my upper arm with his thumb, just his eyes flicking to mine in question.

"I'm not sure." I breathed out; certain he'd note the flush in my face and the strong burn of want in my veins.

"Was this me too?"

 _I honestly didn't know._

I either said it out loud or Ranger decided to accept responsibility for any injury he found that I couldn't explain away because he bent his head to brush his lips over that mark as well. He turned his attention to my other arm and noted the matching bracelet on my wrist dipped his head without even asking. His lips sliding over my skin rising higher until my breath hitched in my lungs and I moaned. His hands dropped to my hips and slid under the hem of my stolen night-shirt brushing the edge of my panties. He raised his eyes to mine again—asking for permission this time. Heat coiled tighter in my abdomen and spiraled out through my veins and soaking my panties.

"Please babe," He whispered. "I need to see."

"My back." The word barely had volume but he stood up instantly tangling his fingers with mine and pulling me gently to my feet before turning me with his hands on my hips. I twisted slowly under his direction, feeling self-conscious with Ranger standing behind me and my gaze on the wall of aesthetically rolled towels Ella stocked on the shelf in here.

My breath caught as his hands slid under the hem of his shirt again lifting it over my hips, my arms raised instinctually as he stepped closer the heat of his body soaking into mine. He lifted the shirt carefully over my head, his hands carefully drawing my arms down with the material in front of me as he pulled it free his hands gripping mine still encased in his shirt. One hand fisted in the black cotton still trapping my hands keeping my hands in front of me as he raised the other up tracing over my arm to my shoulder making me shiver and goosebumps break out over my skin as his fingertips followed the curve of my shoulder blade with gentle pressure, down over the edge of my ribs before gliding around the bare skin of my waist pressing his palm flat to my abs. His touch gently sweeping over them for a moment as he inhaled sharply behind me before pressing into me pulling me back and holding me flush against his body from shoulder to hips.

His fingers released the shirt material still in his hand raising to sweep the hair off my neck, over my right shoulder so his fingers could trail down my spine next. My head dropped forward and my knees went weak. His lips brushed the spot just under my ear and a nipple tightening shiver rolled down my spine while I gasped in response. His breath moved to the back of my neck, fanning over my spine. I bit my lip to keep from moaning as he stepped back leaving me flushed and trembling. What felt like a single knuckle tracing down the hollow path of my spine. He dropped to his knees behind me and I clenched my hands in my t-shirt and wobbled enough that he braced both his hands against my hips, steadying me.

He was quiet for what felt like a long time. I started to wonder with a fierce blush if he was staring at my ass. I turned my head to see us both in the large framed mirror over Ranger's double vanity sinks.

Ranger's face was mere inches from my cotton and lace covered bottom but his gaze was clearly locked on the bruises blooming like impressionist painted sunflower petals ringing each bump of my spine, flowering out across most of my lower and middle back—this was by far the worst of it in my opinion.

"The cab." I whispered and Ranger's eyes flew to mine in the mirror like he'd forgotten I was here despite the fact that I was standing in front of him in only my underwear. I swallowed. "After he pulled me out by my hair—he slammed me into the side."

His eyes slipped closed and the expression that flitted over his features faster than hummingbird wings brought tears to my eyes. I opened my mouth to say something tell him I was okay, apologize for worrying him, promise I'd be more careful, and nothing like this would ever happen again— _anything_ to keep that flash of raw devastated emotion I'd seen off his face. He leaned forward and traced his lips over the bruises on my spine, eyes clenched shut, breathing fast and hard against my skin and the words died in my throat.

My eyes slipped shut and the t-shirt fluttered silently to the floor at my feet. I needed something to steady myself, and that wasn't going to cut it. My knees nearly buckled as his tongue traced over my spine halfway up my back before his lips brushed a series of descending kisses down to the curve of my ass. His hands slid up from my thighs to my hips turning me around, his hands slipped around my back as he pulled me close.

My face blushed a deeper shade of pink as his eyes slid over me. I'd crossed my arms self-consciously over my breasts when he started to turn me around. His finger traced the dark bruise on my hip where I'd connected with the doorknob the night before, then traced its almost twin on the other side.

He hadn't asked, hadn't raised his eyes to look at me yet but I found myself telling him anyway. "I ran into the door on the stairwell, and the door handle in my bathroom when I realized someone was standing outside my apartment door."

Ranger's head tipped forward, resting his forehead against my stomach; his warm breath heating already hyper- sensitive skin practically quivering under his previous ministrations. His still loose hair fell forward over his shoulders to tickle the tops of my thighs. I shivered and he turned his face, resting his cheek flat against my stomach eyes closed, arms wrapped tightly around my lower back.

Ranger had _never_ acted like this—I'd been hurt before, far worse than a few bumps and bruises. My heart was in my throat, my fingers trembled as I ran them through the still damp heavy silk of his hair. Under the quiet spray of water still pounding the tile it sounded like Ranger sighed at my touch. The third time my fingers trailed through the dark locks framing his face he turned his head into me again, eyes still closed and pressed his lips to the skin of my navel. I sucked in a breath and my fingers faltered in his hair.

He paused a moment turning his head in slow motion tracing the tip of his perfect nose back and forth, his breath fanning out across my skin less than an inch above the waistband of my panties. Ranger lifted his chin pressed his lips to me again and my fingers dropped to his shoulders fisted in the soft material of his t-shirt afraid I'd pass out under this strange achingly intense assault. He groaned low and tight the sound rumbling from his chest right into my body where he pressed against me. He let his tongue dip into my belly button, tracing its circumference before sucking the skin just under it into his mouth and swirling his tongue and I nearly collapsed.

I closed my eyes and moaned head tipping back, heat pooling in my belly just under his lips, quickly flamed into an inferno that couldn't be ignored. My nipples hardened to tight points and the top of my thighs clenched and throbbed enviously of the attention mere inches from where I urgently needed it.

Ranger's tongue darted out to French kiss my belly button again with the same skillful technique I achingly remembered on other parts of my body. I dug my fingers into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, pulling my lower lip between my teeth and felt the first tingling waves of a doomsday orgasm ripple through me.

Ranger caught the back of my thighs in firm warm hands keeping me upright and pinned to his face as he dipped his tongue down to trace the top of my panties and the top of my head nearly came off. I was trembling and weak kneed, and so close I could taste it. "Please." I begged, shaking I was so close.

Ranger trailed a line of soft open mouth kisses over the same path and I had to place one hand against the steam fogged glass wall of the shower to steady myself. He brought one hand around to trace his fingers up the front of my thigh, his thumb sliding to the apex of my thigh. Those dark liquid black eyes captured mine as he shifted his hand, skated his fingertips over the soaked cotton of my panties, his other hand clenched against my lower back and he leaned forward groaning; eyes locked on me darting his tongue into my navel once more at the same moment his clever fingers brushed against my nub on the first try setting me off in a blaze of heat that would have sent me to the floor without Ranger's strong hand pinning me to his chest while he continued to torture my belly with licks, and opened mouth kisses that turned into little love bites promptly soothed by swirling tongue.

I was quaking still, gasping for air, dizzy and flushed when he rose to his feet in front of me, tilting my head back with his hands on either side of my face and brushed his lips against mine in a simple tongue-less kiss once, twice, three times before crushing my body to his in a fierce hug and whispering against my ear in a voice as thick with unmistakable need as the heavy bulge in his cargos pressed tight enough to my stomach I could feel it throb. "Get cleaned up babe. Ella left lunch for you in the fridge. I'll let you know as soon as I have information from the lawyer."

He pressed another chaste kiss to my temple and then my forehead brushing his thumb over my cheek once more and then he was gone shutting the door to the bathroom firmly behind him and leaving me breathless and trembling and more confused then I'd ever felt in my life.

* * *

 **To be continued...**

 **Oh boy! That was hot! Poor Steph! ;)**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. drat!

 **Notes:** Huge thanks to Fallharvst for proofing this and helping me tweak it! You rock!

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine**

* * *

I stood there in a complete daze for a full minute before it fully sunk in that he wasn't coming back.

I yanked the door to the shower open and stumbled inside on rubbery legs. The rainfall shower head mounted to the ceiling instantly soaking me from head to toe in a deluge of blissfully hot water and with it came a tiny measure of mental clarity. I thanked God, and Tank-less heating systems for Seven's endless supply of hot water; something I'd put to the test vigorously on previous occasions, along with Ranger's pulsing hand held shower massager. During the Slayers mess showering twice a day helped me keep my sanity, and my hands to myself—well, _mostly_.

I raked limp water saturated curls back from my face with my fingers while blowing out forcefully in frustration and sending the stream of water cascading down my face flying everywhere. I opened my mouth sucking in a breath of air through the falling water and covered my face with my hands.

 _What the Hell was that Stephanie?_

 _That was…well it was_ _ **Hot as Hell**_ _that's for damn sure, riiiight until the end which I was starting to realize must be the only end of game move In Ranger's play book._

 _Pull up pants, hit the door._

Although to be fair, Ranger hadn't taken off his pants despite the state he'd evidently been in when he walked out. Clearly he'd been just as turned on as I was, yet he'd walked out without taking things further.

Not even a backwards glance.

I wasn't sure what to make of that. Ranger said in the past he was an opportunist, that he'd take advantage of any opening I gave him and move in…yet clearly I'd been in a state of opportunity— _Serious Opportunity_ , and he'd walked out the door. _What did that mean?_ I didn't know, and it was taking my head and my emotions on a serious rollercoaster.

I closed my eyes going over the events in my head on endless loop. _Maybe he felt sorry for me? Poor beat up Stephanie._ _I felt like such a Dope_. In the ranking of stupid things I'd done in my life, (because if _anyone_ should keep track with a list, it was _me_ ) it felt like what just occurred should be somewhere in the top twenty at least.

Risking life and limb was one thing. Deluding myself that Ranger wanted more of me in his life, or wanted me in a more significant capacity in his life—something beyond an easy fuck would only end with me getting my heart ripped out. And _that_ was another thing _entirely_.

I've had quite a few close calls in my life the last few years. I felt like I could survive almost anything—except Ranger's outright rejection. I was pretty certain that would kill me, or kill something deep inside me so pivotal I never felt the same again.

I sighed internally berating myself. _So why the Hell had I just let that happen?_

 _Because it felt Real._ The stupid part of me pointed out with an air of entirely too much hope.

 _Yes, but remember the DeChooch deal?_ Reality piped up helpfully, crushing me once more. _That felt real too, didn't it?_

 _I closed my eyes and sifted through a tangle of emotions. God yes_ , that night; the way he'd touched me, moved inside me, the emotion I thought I read behind his eyes—it rocked my world to its core. Ranger had threatened to ruin me for all other men—and when it came to my body he very nearly had. I could have lived with that.

The real problem was that somewhere over the last three years he'd ruined me in a manner far more significant then what I experienced in bed. And it happened so gradually I didn't even realize it _was_ happening, not until it was too late. I looked at his face one day and realized that I was so head over heels in love with the man that everything else in my life paled in comparison to his presence.

I could pretend, and hide in denial—but the cold hard truth was when Ranger walked into a room it was like he brought with him the sun; a miniature sizzling hot Cuban sun—that brightened and brought color and life, and humor to everything around me. When Ranger was with me I felt like I could conquer the world. When he said he was proud of me my heart soared, and when he kissed me if felt so right it was like coming home…

When he walked away again he took that light with him and I existed in a shell of darkness. _Or maybe I was the shell—_ Ranger had become the center of my heart and soul. I lacked a piece of myself when he was gone that felt as essential to life as air.

 _Too bad he wasn't mine to keep, and never could be._

Ranger might want to keep me safe—whether from a sense of duty, or because we were friends—God that word still stung like hot coals to my gut…but he didn't want to spend every morning waking up with me. He didn't want to watch movies with me late at night or argue over where to go for dinner—or if I should really have a second piece of cake for dessert— _Okay, Ranger was always going to argue I shouldn't have a second piece of cake._ But the point was he didn't want that kind of life. I wasn't asking for 2.5 kids and an attached duplex in a good school system. _I just wanted HIM._ But it wasn't an option. Ranger all too often pointed that out when I'd get that dopey look in my eye and start to hope for something more between us—He seemed to instinctively know and bluntly set me straight every time.

After this crisis was over, he'd set me aside again like a toy he didn't have time to play with anymore—just like with the Slayers, and Scrog, _and okay, I needed to stop thinking about this before I ended up sobbing for an hour and Ranger came up and found me a complete wreck and got anymore disgusted with me._

The niggling sense of hurt underscoring my confusion and self-doubt swelled, swirling through me on an endless cycle, emotions rolling through my chest I tried not to think about brought to the forefront the moment Ranger walked out the door. I sucked in a deep breath trying to push it all away, bury it down deep inside the box I tried to label 'Do Not Open and Do Not Touch' in my mind.

 _But he's been different since he came back._ The hopeful part of my heart pointed out quietly. And he had been—the screaming fight in the first few days was like an invasion of the body snatchers scenario. It _looked_ like Ranger, and _sounded_ like Ranger— _but he sure as hell wasn't ACTING like Ranger._ Not the Ranger I was familiar with at least.

 _Was it possible that something had changed?_

The little touches—though Ranger has always been very hands on, and God knows his animal magnetism just seems to suck me into his personal orbit anytime we were close…but there was something more…tender in the way he'd touched me lately, and some of the things he'd said…I bit my lip, sliding my teeth over its surface mulling over some of his more conflicting words the last two weeks. Some of them had left me with the tiniest sliver of hope that something was changing between us; that maybe 'someday' with Ranger wasn't just a word—that it might be an actual possibility.

 _I was afraid to believe it. Afraid I'd see something—read something into his actions that wasn't there and set myself up for a fall I'd never survive._

It would be so easy, too easy—my relationship with Ranger had always left me off balance, dependent on him for comfort, confidence and safety. The constant sexual undertones to his actions and double meaning to so many of the things he said didn't make unraveling what was actually going on in Batman's mind an easy feat. Ranger continuously said one thing and did another completely, early on I'd wondered if it was to purposely baffle me. But over time it had only gotten worse. He constantly hinted that I was important and he'd be upset if something bad happened to me, then in the same breath told me to fix my relationship with another man. Interactions with Ranger more often than not left me flushed, tingly and utterly confused, like right now!

My body was still humming with an electric current from Ranger's earlier attentions, throbbing in key places that felt left out.

Sure I'd gotten a release out of it, a Damn good one, with Ranger that was never in question. But my hormones were stomping their feet now and complaining that we'd quit before the main event. I didn't know it was possible to feel the tingling aftershocks of an orgasm so strong it had nearly knocked me flat out, and the bitter crush of unfulfilled disappointment at the same time.

I bit my now tender and swollen lower lip wondering if I bruised it myself if Ranger would kiss it better.

I groaned and tilted sideways, leaning my shoulder and head against the cool tile wall. That avenue of thought wouldn't help me keep my head on straight enough to figure this out. I shook my head dispelling drops of water and reached out to grab the shampoo & conditioner combo Ranger used. It had a vaguely sweet and citrusy undertone that always lingered under the heavenly scent of Bvlgari that melted my panties instantly.

I eyed the bottle in question taunting me from the shower alcove narrowing my eyes at it while I worked a rich lather into my hair.

"This is all your fault." I accused it with a petulant whisper.

If he didn't _smell_ so damn good all the time…and _look_ so damn good, and _feel_ so— _Okay,_ I groaned feeling my body tremor with a wave of sensory memory from our one night together so intense I swear I could feel him moving inside me. My knees almost gave out. _So it wasn't the Bvlgari's fault_. _It was all me_.

I set the shampoo bottle down and grabbed the Bvlgari Green instead popping the cap and squeezing a generous amount onto my palm. I discarded the bottle and rubbed my hands together before bringing them up to palm my breasts. The slippery bubbles glided over my skin and moved lower and I moaned turning to brace my upper back flat against the shower tiles and raised my left leg propping my foot flat against the shower seat.

My fingers glided over wet skin that had nothing to do with water and circled my aching clit. My head tipped back against the wall picturing Ranger kneeling at my feet just moments before his dark eyes locked on mine as his tongue darted out to circle my belly button before flicking inside. I groaned pressing harder and imagined his mouth moving lower. Five pounding heartbeats later picturing his dark hair brushing my thighs and his face buried between my legs I shattered. My eyes slammed shut and a shuddering gasp tore from my throat, a tangled mix of garbled syllables that suspiciously resembled part of his name. I sagged back against the wall panting as it ended.

 _God, I was a seriously weak woman, I couldn't even resist conjuring him up with my imagination when I was alone._

It took me several minutes to slow my racing heart and trust my legs enough to push off the wall onto slightly unsteady legs. I rinsed the soap from my hair and focused my hands and attention on scrubbing down every inch of my body with single minded purpose. Trying not to think about what happened earlier between Ranger and me, and what it might mean… _Fuck, too late._

 _Be logical about this Steph: He didn't profess his undying love, you know—In his own way_. I groaned. I was going in circles again, just like I always did when I tried to figure out Ranger's motivations by studying his words versus actions.

 _What just happened wasn't any different than a short tryst in the alley beside the Bond's office,_ I reasoned. _Only we'd been in the privacy of his apartment so Ranger had taken his play a bit farther before pulling away and leaving me dazed and confused once more._ Ranger was naturally a very sexual being. I guess I should be grateful he decided to stop teasing me when he did.

Honestly when he stood in front of me, if I'd had better control of my mental facilities or my legs I'd have ripped his pants open and ridden him like he was Silver and I was the Lone Ranger. A sharp bolt of longing flashed down my spine and I groaned.

 _Stop it Stephanie. I was getting nowhere, and I had more important things to worry about right now!_ I'd just have to shelve any thoughts of Ranger—and what _was_ …or _wasn't_ happening between us until after I had this mess cleaned up. I needed to deal with the fact that a murderer—possibly a serial killer, was leaving gifts on my apartment door—Oh my God, _my apartment!_

I shut off the shower with one hand, shoved the door open and stepped out grabbing one of Ranger's super fluffy towels. I threw the towel around my body haphazardly still dripping water down my legs and arms, and hair, tucking the corner between my breasts to keep it in place and scrambling out of the bathroom.

I was halfway through the bedroom when I realized I didn't have my cell phone—and I didn't know Tamsin or Davis's numbers by heart because they'd always been stored in my phone…I didn't even know if I remembered Joe's cellphone or house phone number without my speed dial—I remembered my parent's house because it had been the same number for 33 years. The only other number I knew by heart was Ranger's cell phone.

And I _refused_ to analyze that fact right now.

I also didn't know any of my neighbors—or have their numbers, so I had very limited options. I groaned and jogged to the kitchen relieved to see the phone, like the bedroom door had at least been replaced even if the front door remained absent. I picked the receiver up and hit zero since it was an internal line without dialing 9, which I'd learned last time I was here—only worked if Ranger allowed it.

"Rangeman Control, this is Zip." _Thank God, a Merry Man I knew!_

"Zip! Is Ranger in his office?"

"Hold on," The line clicked to silence, then clicked again a few seconds later. "Uh, Bomber—Ranger's in the gym."

"I thought he had meetings," _Or was it just the one meeting he gave away on the phone to, I'd assume it was Tank, but I really didn't know._

"Uh, yeah." Zip hedged sounding nervous. "I don't think _anyone_ in their right mind would want to _meet_ with the Boss right now."

"What? Why?!" I gripped the phone tighter in my hand trying to keep my towel from sliding off with the other.

"Um," Zip mumbled. "Let's just say he's busted his third heavy bag in the last two weeks this morning, and he shows no signs of slowing. No one wants the fourth fatality to be their face."

 _Ranger was beating the crap out of the gym equipment instead of contacting the lawyer?_

"Mr. Bentley is here in Conference room five." Zip informed me proving that once again I was thinking out loud. "He arrived less than ten minutes ago."

 _I was going to guess Bentley was the Rangeman Attorney Ranger talked about._ "Any chance he has his cell phone on him?"

"Bentley?" Zip questioned sounding confused by the question.

"No, Ranger."

"Uh, Ranger? He's wearing his Cargos," Zip hesitated, "you sure you want to call him right now though? If it was me Bomber, I'd wait an hour…maybe more."

"Can't wait," _Someone had probably robbed me already!_ "Thanks Zip." I hung up and dialed 9 and then his number and listened to it ring twice before he picked up breathing like a runaway freight train and clearly making no effort to hide it.

"Babe,"

"Ranger! I left my apartment wide open last night! My purse, all my stuff! Anyone could walk right in!" My apartment in Jersey might have been pathetically easy to break into but I'd never just leave the door wide open!

There was a pause while he sucked in a breath sounding really, really winded, making me wonder what the Hell he was doing down there. "I need your apartment number." He huffed.

 _Right_. Guess I really couldn't keep it from him in this instance—though he probably would have learned it anyway by the end of the day between the Lawyers and the PD and FBI. "812, it's 812."

"Babe," Ranger breathed out in a rush that now sounded both winded and amused.

"What?" I shot back. _How was that funny? Because I finally told him after keeping it secret so long?_ _Because he already knew and was pulling my leg all this time waiting for me to fold?_

"Because that's my Birthday." Ranger said letting me in suddenly on a closely guarded secret I'd tried to ferret out unsuccessfully for close to three years. "I'll take care of it." He added in the next exhale hanging up.

 _Okay._ I stood there staring at the phone in my hand in shock. My head was spinning with too many questions again. I hung the phone back up on the receiver and realized I was standing in a growing water puddle on the kitchen tile.

 _Guess I should go get dressed._

 _._

* * *

 **.**

Almost two full hours later I was pacing a hole in the plush carpet between Ranger's entrance hallway to the bedroom door, and back again. I was ready to climb the walls. _What the Hell was taking so long?_

I'd dressed in a Rangeman uniform because once again, after taking the new clothes that Ella had purchased for me on my last visit back to New York with me, (into my probably now vandalized apartment,) I had almost nothing here that fit. Even though my Rangeman cargos were loose in the waist, they weren't as bad as my old jeans had been. The shirt fit fine—or better than it had. It had never really fit me thanks to the nearly two inch gap of skin between the hem of the shirt and where the waistband of my Rangeman Cargo's usually started leaving me perpetually tugging it down over skin anytime I moved.

I wasn't sure if the gap should be attributed to Ranger's sense of humor dressing me up like batman Barbie or if Ella was using my mid-drift like a red flag in a bulls face anytime I was in the building in front of Batman. My flat stomach and the hint of abdominal muscles now on display looked a hell of a lot better than they ever had before, that's for damn sure.

Luckily the cargos had always been a size too small so they were slightly smaller than swallowing me whole and came with a web belt the guys would have covered with all kinds of gizmos and weapons. I just needed to cinch it closed and tuck a good eight inches of extra material into my waistband so it didn't hang distractingly. The fact that both parts of my Rangeman uniform had always been wrong lead me to believe that someone had certainly ordered them that way on purpose—Ella certainly didn't make mistakes with anyone else's uniform. I was certainly not the toughest shape to fit in this building, that's for damn sure! I was positive Tank's shirts had to be made special order, possibly Hal's too.

I passed by the kitchen counter again catching the slight frame of my reflection in the glossy mirror like surface of the stainless steel refrigerator and started to grit my teeth. Part of me really wanted to see Ranger's reaction to how I fit in my uniform now— watch his eyes darken and heat. And the other half of me wanted to put a bag over my head and hide. The thought of calling a taxi and running away had crossed my mind, a few times—but I felt I needed to do the adult thing and see this through to its end.

I had no idea how I was going to make it through what would undoubtedly be a very uncomfortable meeting, on my part at least, with Ranger sitting in the same room after what happened earlier and the way he walked out on me.

I sighed, knowing I didn't really have a choice. Very few people would be in the position to help me like Ranger was, even less willing to do so. I'd have to bury my embarrassment and just keep plugging along.

Not the first time I'd been embarrassed by needing Rangeman or Ranger's help, I mean this is me. I've since stopped counting cars, man hours and money bled on my behalf. Considering it only led to crushing guilt and depression that was probably the safest course of action.

I turned back towards the kitchen two feet from the bedroom door and my eyes locked on the phone again. _Maybe I should call?_ I blew out a breath that ruffled my bangs and the phone rang—Finally! I took the last three steps and snatched it off the base.

"Ranger?"

There was a minute pause before a gruff voice informed me "No."

 _Tank_. Something inside my chest settled near my feet and I swallowed down a ridiculous wave of emotion.

"I need you to come down to conference room five on the second floor please." Tank added oblivious to my internal distress.

 _Tank was calling me. And he said please._ "Where's Ranger?"

Tank hesitated a moment, like he had when I'd picked up—neither pause was lost on me though I was at a complete loss for how to interpret them. "Ranger's handling a situation that required his personal attention." He finally added.

 _Which told me exactly nothing._ It could be a staffing issue, a client complaint or he could be avoiding me after this morning since he didn't have Joe to send me back to.

"Steph?" Tank pressed at my silence.

"Yeah sure," I hung up. _Crap. That was probably rude,_ my Burg upbringing chided me. I guess Ranger was rubbing off on me, in more ways than one. I shoved the phone back onto the receiver with more force then necessary then paused pulling in a deep breath—I shouldn't break two of Ranger's phones, he'd stop inviting me over.

I walked out of the apartment and headed to the elevator. It wasn't like I needed to stop and grab a purse or keys—there wasn't a door to the apartment, and I didn't have either item in my possession. I hit the button for the elevator and waited rocking silently back and forth on the flat heels of my Rangeman issue black boots I'd always ignored in favor of my faded sneakers. The elevator dinged and the doors slide open to an empty car as I stepped inside fighting disappointment and feeling increasingly stupid.

When the elevator dinged again and slid open on two Tank was waiting for me in the small lobby designed to receive non-personal before meetings on this floor. The chairs were empty now and Tank jerked his head once indicating I should follow him.

Less than twenty feet down on the left we went through two dark wood paneled double doors into a conference room that was more classic corporate office and less tactical headquarters then the one's located on Five Rangeman used for daily meetings. I guess the guys didn't care about leafy greenery on the sideboard or the framed and matted tasteful art that probably cost more than my old apartment's monthly rent but a potential client or current one might. Tank proceeded to a chair and I followed at a slower pace taking a moment to sweep my eyes around the room. The walls were pale grey, the furniture was dark wood and the main table was long and ringed with lumbar support chairs and seated three muscular males.

Bobby and Ram smiled when I came in, the later looking a little tired. I didn't recognize the third man—but judging by the suit and the papers stacked in front of him I'd guess he was the lawyer both Ranger and Zip had mentioned earlier.

"Heard you had some excitement last night." Bobby said not looking particularly happy as I pulled out a chair opposite them and sat down slowly in deference to the sore muscles I'd found growing increasingly achy as the day wore on.

"You know me," I offered in a low carefully even voice. "Life of the party."

Something in Bobby's expression shifted but it was too quick to identify. Beside him Ram's jaw tightened perceptibly and I realized taking a closer look at his bloodshot eyes if I'd seen him last night there was a good chance he'd been on the nightshift and now at—I glanced at the clock on the wall, 12:34 pm he had to be running on fumes.

"You look tired," I blurted out and Ram shot me a genuine grin that turned his face downright impish.

"I'll live." He folded his hands on the table in front of him and my eyes caught on the scabbed skin clearly split over four knuckles—one held together with a single tight black stitch.

"What the Hell happened to your hands?" I gasped certain they hadn't looked that way last night.

The grin shifted to one of pure satisfaction that wouldn't have been out of place in a darkened bedroom. My stomach flipped and I tried not to blush.

"He'll live too." Ram winked at me leaving his hands on the table.

"Lucky bastard." Bobby muttered under his breath.

Beside me Tank cleared his throat and I jumped. "Let's get started."

I looked at the conference room doors. Tank had said Ranger was busy, but the thought of him not being here—even if I'd been nervous about facing him just minutes before felt wrong. I still expected him to be here somehow. I wondered, a greasy heavy feeling slithering around my stomach, if Ranger really was avoiding me now, or if it was completely a coincidence that he found himself busy at this moment with other matters.

"Steph this is Travis Bentley, Rangeman's primary attorney."

"Hello," My Burg manner's popped up in the slight pause in introduction.

He nodded and smiled at me proving even the legal representation at Rangeman followed the devastatingly handsome clause that I was convinced was secretly a part of all Rangeman employment contracts.

"Call me Travis Ms. Plum."

"Okay, call me Stephanie, or just Steph please—not Ms. Plum." It sounded too much like someone asking for my mother.

Travis nodded and Bobby continued like he hadn't stopped. "Travis requested the records of your arrest from the Newark PD as your official representing council this morning."

I nodded having figured as much based on Ranger's previous words.

"The Newark PD is saying there is no record of picking you up."

"What?!" I blinked. _Did they not file the paperwork because I'd made the deal so quickly?_

"No," Travis cut in. "Even if you took the deal there would still have to be a private record of what happened; legalities that have to be addressed. A record has to be established and maintained for chain of command, who you report too normally—what you do in the event of a life threatening emergency, the details of your arrangement and what happens if they're not met. Even when things are kept highly confidential in the case of large state cases against dirty politicians or Criminal organizations the blood sucking lawyers need to cross their T's and dot their I's." He grinned at me with a self-depreciating humor that at another time I'd probably appreciate.

I stared at him flummoxed. None of that had happened. They'd offered me a deal, told me who I needed to report to—where I'd be working and that I'd go to jail if I didn't. They'd told me it wasn't such a bad deal when I'd balked at the idea of a strip club (as I'd understood it at the time) by saying they were going to pay me—because they were helping me out they could just tell me to get my ass to New York and sleep in an alley.

"So… what does that mean?" _Clearly I'd been picked up! I hadn't just decided to go to New York on some psychotic break and become a dancer! If there was no paperwork did that mean I was off the hook?_

"One thing at a time." Bobby interjected. "We contacted the Chief of Police in Newark and made an inquiry into the officers at the time of your supposed arrest, and the absence of record official or otherwise. Failure to follow procedure doesn't look very good for them. It might even be enough to throw the whole thing out completely. In the mean time we thought it was prudent to handle the possible charges before they can find their lost paperwork and file them against you now."

"They can do that?"

"Not now." Ranger growled from the door letting it close behind him and already stomping towards the conference room table. He nodded to Travis as he crossed the room and took an empty seat beside Bobby across from Tank instead of the open seat beside me.

I fought the lump in my throat and tried to tell myself it was school girlish to want Ranger to sit next to me. Those same stupid girly impulses would certainly be obvious to Ranger if I didn't get them under control, and then he'd push me even farther away. _Get it together Steph, treat this like a business relationship. That's what it is, friends and business—and right now it was clearly all about business._ _Just forget the fact that Ranger practically fingered you to orgasm and left you without a second thought five seconds later._

I carefully kept my eyes off of Ranger's face once he was seated and fixed my gaze on Bobby who'd been speaking before he walked in determined to not shift my gaze to the left as if my life depended on it. "So what's happening with the charges—or possible charges, I guess."

Bobby shifted under my gaze and I realized I was glaring at him but couldn't seem to stop. "Well," he started maybe trying to gather his thoughts. "We took the information you gave Ranger in the absence of an official report and made sure we have the proper documents on file so that those concerns are completely eliminated."

"I don't understand," I butted in. "How does having a license or registration _now_ help? Can't they still charge me since I didn't have it at the time they picked me up?"

"You _had_ it at the time they picked you up." Tank rumbled from my side.

I blinked and turned my head to stare at him. The way he said ' _had'_ made me think it was more likely someone computer savvy on the Rangeman payroll had made the documents magically appear bearing the right dates. "You mean you forged them."

Tank flashed me a row of neat white teeth. "That would be illegal. Lucky for us the database for firearm registration is all electronic in the State of New Jersey, so are the DMV and Business of Professional License and Regulations."

"So you hacked into the system and gave me a license?" _That certainly wasn't legal either!_

"I'm not hearing this." Travis said from the other side of the table folding his hands in front of him and leaning back. "It's that damn IED injury from a few years ago, the hearing—it comes and goes."

"Damn Straight," Ram said nodding his head. They bumped fists in a manly display and I rolled my eyes at them both before turning my attention back to Bobby who seemed to be oddly running this meeting instead of Ranger.

"Look, I appreciate that—I really do, but I don't want anyone getting in trouble or breaking the law for my screw up." I pointed out nervously certain they'd be able to prove my paperwork or computer information whatever it was—had just popped out of thin air suspiciously.

"Relax Bomber. Neither you or Travis doesn't need to get their panties in a wad." Bobby said smiling. "You had it all in the system—clearly someone on _their_ end hit the wrong button or typed a wrong letter somewhere when running their search."

"Uh huh." _So not convinced, especially with that grin he was sporting._

"They really should double check themselves, damn embarrassing." Ram pointed out with a straight face.

"That's the trouble with digital systems," Tank rumbled. "It's not like Google. Use the wrong case, or number and nothing comes up—not to even mention technical glitches which can happen anywhere, at any time."

"I want to say thank you—"

"It's not necessary Bomber, but you're welcome." Bobby said.

"—But…"

"Look Bomber, you're covered under the umbrella policy of Rangeman as an employee—it was clearly a Rangeman skip you were after that day," His eyes bored into me telegraphing that he too was unhappy that I'd gone after Johnson myself without consulting them or proper backup. Yeah, _get in line buddy._

"But we also found your private license under Vinnie, so you're covered either way."

"And the unregistered gun?" I snapped, unsure why their help was making me so angry when I'd desperately needed it. Maybe it was the hole in the side of my head Ranger was boring with his eyes. "Did you go to the police station and solder numbers onto the side of it?" _Because they sure as hell hadn't given it back to me! It was sitting somewhere in Newark, probably in a numbered cardboard evidence box with my name on it just waiting to fall on my neck like an axe._

"Got you covered there too," Tank announced drawing my glare. "Rangeman is allowed a certain number of 'untraceable weapons' for certain jobs—undercover work, dealing with certain criminal elements. There's plenty of unsavory shits out there that are just clever enough to check the number on the side of a Glock and then shooting you with it. Pretending you're a gangster or a drug lord only works if your side piece doesn't announce you're lying through your teeth."

 _I'd never thought about that._ "Wait, that still wouldn't explain what I was doing with it." _No one was going to believe I was undercover as a Gangster. I was as threatening as Curly Sue_. I nearly snorted and Tank grinned wider.

"It would have been in Rangeman's sealed weapon locker. Clearly someone on our end made a mistake and put the untraceable weapon in the wrong slot in the armory. It might get us a few frowny faces and a slap on the wrist but since our record is impeccable everywhere else it will be overlooked. No long term damage. They sure as Hell ain't going to get huffy enough and risk the next time they need serious man power or assistance in the field we tell them to screw off." Tank said.

"Okay, so you can explain the unmarked gun. I now have paperwork for my gun, my car and my job."

"Yes."

"So now what?"

"Now Travis waits for the police Chief to call him back and we find out why in the Hell Officer Diaz and Garcia decided to pick you up and pressure you into a deal—then lose the damn paperwork."

"Jose Diaz?" Ranger snapped and my eyes flicked to him. He was glaring at Bobby who looked conspicuously neutral at his outburst. Beside me Tank shifted in his seat.

"Yes," Bobby said.

"Fucking Jose Rodrigues Diaz?" Ranger snarled. "That's the puto imbécil that started this maldito lío?" He snarled a few more words that seemed _very_ derogatory in Spanish.

"Who is Jose Diaz?" My eyes darted back and forth around the table waiting for someone to clue me in, half expecting they wouldn't. I'd never met Diaz before that afternoon, but clearly Ranger—and I was going to guess Bobby at least knew who he was.

"He's the Puerto Rican fuck stick that tried to date Ranger's little sister." Tank said surprising me by smiling at Ranger like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Officer Diaz tried to date your sister." I stared at him, knowing there had to be more to that story as Ranger pursed his lips. _Why was that a problem? I mean, after the mess he'd put me in I kinda thought he was a dick…_

"He _is_ a Dick." Bobby pointed out. "And worse, tiny prick got himself a badge and thinks he's hot shit now. He hates the fact that Ranger left town the punk that kicked his ass and came back the untouchable golden child."

Ranger narrowed his eyes at Bobby words though I wasn't sure what part he was objecting too.

"He's still nursing one Hell of serious case of butt hurt after you beat the shit out of him in seventh grade in front of your sister and his friends. Never got over it." Tank drawled. "Tried to tell everyone when Ranger went to Miami they really hauled his ass off to Jail, said you were just a stupid hot head thug that would be dead in a year. The fact that Ranger owns and runs Rangeman, is well respected in the community and Diaz can't use his pathetic badge to try to get back at him only twists the knife."

"Doesn't help he can't get promoted from traffic. The fact that he tried to pull him over and harass him two years ago and made him late when Ranger was on his way to meet with _His_ own police chief I'm sure has _nothing_ to do with that either." Bobby grinned.

"I'm going to kick his fucking ass." Ranger growled scrubbing a hand over his mouth and leaning back in his seat.

I sat a moment taking it all in. "But, this has nothing to do with Ranger," I said scrunching my forehead up and looking at all of them. "Ranger wasn't with me. I wasn't in a Rangeman vehicle, or uniform, and I've never met Diaz in my life! There was no way to tie me to Ranger, it's just a coincidence that I was in Newark and Ranger happens to know the guy." _Right?_

"Oh he knew who you were," Tank drawled and Ranger's eyes flashed to his second in command with a harsh glare. If that look had been directed at me I'd have zipped my lips pronto—or wet myself.

"A lot of people know who I am," I pointed out. "The newspaper articles, and gossip…"

"No." Bobby pointed out. "Diaz knows who you are because he's strangely obsessed with trying to pick a fight or get something over on Ranger anytime they're in the same county lines."

"Some people like to live dangerously," Tank announced still grinning under Ranger's death glare.

"Some people are idiots." Bobby added staring pointedly at Tank. Tank shrugged still flashing teeth.

"I guarantee he knew who you were the second he saw you, and your relationship with Ranger." Bobby said.

"I don't _have_ a _relationship_ with Ranger." I snapped.

"And I'm the fucking Queen of England." Tank mumbled.

I chose to ignore him turning to glare at Ranger instead. "So, I got arrested because you got in a fight in the Seventh grade?"

The expression on Ranger's face was priceless and I suddenly found the whole situation beyond hysterical. I started laughing, full on belly laughs with tears; which didn't seem to improve the sour set of his mouth.

"Babe."

"All this time, I thought it was just me!" I seriously couldn't stop laughing, I pointed at him. "Diaz is your Joyce Burnhardt!" I gasped for breath wiping at tears. _At least he didn't trying to pork me on the interrogation table!_

Ranger snarled something under his breath and beside me Tank's booming laugh made me jump in my seat, even Bobby was fighting a chuckle covering his mouth with his hand. He was sitting within punching distance. "He _is_ your version of Joyce!" Tank howled. "Wasn't he the kid you said always got pissed off because you got picked for soccer before him every time?"

Ranger growled and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and Tank's giant hand slapped the tabletop beside me and he boomed "That's right! Fucker egged his own house in the fourth grade!"

"Why the Hell would anyone egg their own house?" Ram questioned grinning.

"Because he _swore_ he saw Ranger do it!" Tank laughed harder. "Ranger's momma grounded him for two months! Took away his Nintendo!"

"Aw, Pobrecito." Bobby said.

Even Ram was laughing now.

"Fired." Ranger grumbled glaring at Tank. "All you fuckers are fired."

"We can use this," Travis announced fighting to keep a smile off his face and struggling to get us back on track. "If there's obvious history between Ranger and the arresting officer we can use it to point out Steph was singled out on purpose."

"He would have certainly known what she looked like." Tank pointed out.

"Knew she matched the description of the previous victims without even needing a disguise." Ram added. "He had the need to get back at Ranger, however childish, and the perfect opportunity."

"And it wasn't lashing out directly at Ranger so he probably felt no one else in the office, like the Chief would catch it—yet he could clearly stab him in the back by getting her involved in this mess." Bobby said.

Travis nodded. "I'm going to contact Chief Rodney immediately; I think we have enough to question the legitimacy of the initial pick up. It certainly doesn't appear organic in nature. Steph was targeted specifically. Based on their failure to properly research her license state—regardless of her not knowing she was in fact current the department might even owe Stephanie a full apology."

"But how did he know I'd have a gun on me?"

"He didn't." Bobby said. "But that didn't matter—he would have found something to pull you in for, probably already did his homework on something he could use just to get you into the station. The gun just gave him an opportunity that was entirely too easy to pass up."

Travis nodded and smiled at me. "Good news is I'll hopefully have this completely cleared up before five o'clock the Chief is waiting for my return call and eager to make sure Rangeman knows they have his complete cooperation in this matter. By dinner time you should be a free woman. You can go back to your normal life and forget this mess ever happened."

"We'll have to work out a 24 hour rotation until they catch this guy in New York—just in case he manages to follow Steph here." Bobby said.

"No." I said gritting my teeth.

"Bomber, it's for your own safety." Ram started

"—No, you misunderstand." I said staring at Bobby across from me and avoiding Ranger's eyes again. "I'm not quitting." Four sets of narrowed eyes glowered at me. "No. Don't give me that look, this isn't your decision, and you can't intimidate or force me into not seeing this through."

"Steph…"

"No Ram. Shut it." I snapped. "I have been busting my ass trying to stop this guy for four months. I'm trying to be smart for once! I know it's dangerous, but I can't quit. Not now, not if I can help stop this guy. I've seen what he does to people. What he did to Yvonne and Ember, I've seen more dead bodies then I ever wanted in my life, but this? He cut them up so I couldn't even recognize their faces. How can someone do that to another human being? They didn't deserve to die that way; _no one_ deserves to die that way."

I closed my eyes seeing smiling photos on glossy 8x10's, names and faces that haunted my dreams. "Yvonne, Ember, Holly, Lauren, Naomi, Jenny, Ashley… I can't sit in my apartment all safe and sound and read in the morning headline that this asshole killed another helpless girl…" I took a deep breath trying to push the image of Ember's ruined face out of my mind that one perfect blue eye staring right into my soul. I shuddered and bit my lip. "I also don't want that girl to be me, so I'm asking for help."

"What did you have in mind," Tank rumbled completely sobered again.

"Ranger said something about security at my apartment." I glanced at him but turned away again before the heat of his stare could make me forget what I was going to say. "I don't know who owns the apartment I stay in," I said to Travis folding my hands in my lap. "But if we could get permission to have it monitored and then maybe Hector—" my eyes flicked to Ranger and away again "—could install one of those camera's so the control room could monitor the hallway, or it could at least be privately recorded so if this guy shows up we might actually get to see his face."

Bobby nodded in front of me. "We could have the door replaced and reinforced, that way at least inside you should be secure."

"Floor bolt would help." Ram pointed out, "depending on the building specs and type of flooring material under the door."

"Yes, that would be great."

"If it's not a red tape problem I think we can arrange that if Ranger agrees to the resources." Travis glanced down the table and Ranger growled, "Make it happen."

Ranger's phone rang before anyone else could speak. I expected him to ignore it but he pulled it from under the table to look at the screen. He answered it a second later with a gruff "Report." He paused a moment and then said, "Put him on the phone." He paused again. "Agent Davis this is Command Sergeant Major Ricardo Manoso." There was obvious shouting on the other end of the phone. Ranger sat immobile as stone waiting him out. "Ms. Plum is an employee of my company and under my protection as a personal friend. As you've already ascertained based on her apartment she had a gift left for her last night, probably by your killer, the one _you've_ gotten no closer to identifying or catching. She was understandably frightened for her safety unarmed, without appropriate resources. Clearly she wasn't in the frame of mind to wait around and call for assistance—it was after 2am did you expect her to page you and wait defenseless in an unsecure location for you to return her call at 8am when you got around to it, knowing he could return at any moment?" He growled the last words in a savage tone.

There was more shouting through the phone, undistinguishable to my ears but Ranger's face darkened. "If she had waited around for the proper authorities thanks to your dog and pony shit show the neighbor might have found her body instead of a bloody jacket. Which would you prefer Agent Davis? And I'd be _very_ careful how you answer that." Ranger paused a moment and then his lips parted in a smile that lacked any hint of humor, it was downright terrifying. "You do that Agent Davis, your Assistant Director knows my address." He hung up and returned the phone to his pocket slowly.

"That sounded friendly." Tank said leaning back in his chair drawing a creak of protest from the lumbar support.

"Company is coming." Ranger said expression chilling. "Let's make sure they feel _welcome_."

.

* * *

 **To be continued...**


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer:** Not mine! Waah!

 **Notes:** Happy Weekend Everyone! Thank you for all the reads/faves/reviews, you guys make me feel ten feet tall! Thank you!

 **Huge Thanks to Fallharvst for the pre-read through and the assurance that I did okay on this one!**

I was sweating this chapter quite a bit since this is an important section for lots of reasons!

 _Almost 10k words in this chapter! Enjoy!_

 _edited at 11:03 EST because I missed a few things and Fallharvst helped me out! Thank you Again! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty**

* * *

"Bentley, I need the paperwork from Newark PD before Davis and Blausé get here. Everyone meet back here at 1500." Ranger said.

There were a few nods and everyone stood to leave so I started to follow them.

"Stephanie, you stay." Ranger said.

I watched Ram's back retreat through the conference room door sinking back into my chair and suddenly feeling trapped as it clicked shut softly behind him leaving me feeling very confined with a very intense Ranger. This must be what it's like to find yourself in a cage with a wild animal, I thought.

"We need to Talk." Ranger said quietly but it felt like a shout reverberating inside my head.

 _Oh God. Here it comes._ My stomach clenched into a giant knot that reached all the way into the back of my throat. I tried to swallow a few times and my fingers clenched reflexively under the table into tight fists. The silence stretched on making the knots in my gut tighten and twist so I worried I might actually throw up. _Keep it together Stephanie_.

"What do we need to talk about?" I tried to keep my voice flat and even, as emotionless as Ranger. I wouldn't let him see this bother me. _I could do this, I had to._ I didn't want him to know just how badly this conversation was about to cut me up inside, humiliate me and break me apart. That would just make him push me farther away. I didn't think I could handle Ranger disappearing off to Miami or South America or where ever he went right now.

Ranger sighed softly, my eyes flicked to his face in time to watch his eyes close in a fleeting second of emotion. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes deeper then I'd seen them in a long time. I tamped down the foolish instinct to stand up and circle the room, drop to my knees in front of him and wrap my arms around his waist. I wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright. I wanted to apologize for worrying him the last few weeks and making him look so exhausted. But I stayed firmly in my seat. Ranger wouldn't appreciate me calling attention to a moment of weakness, regardless of its cause, I was certain of it.

Ranger existed on a plane of self-reliance and solitude I'd never understand, but I could try to respect that distance. He wanted to be friends, we _were_ friends. I swallowed around the hot expanding lump rising in my throat, a small croaking sound escaping with the motion. Ranger's eyes opened and those dark chocolate orbs locked on mine. I could only stand the force in his gaze for a second before I had to drop my eyes to the table. My fingers fidgeted with the seam of my pants, clenching and unclenching reflexively hidden from view.

"I sent two men to New York to check on your apartment this morning."

That was _not_ what I expected him to say. I'd gathered as much based on his previous conversation. Judging by the look on his face it hadn't been what he was planning to talk to me about when he asked me to stay, I'd never seen Ranger build up to a topic, if something was important enough to warrant words Ranger said them. I nodded slowly, waiting him out.

"They were stopped by several NYPD officers and questioned by Agent Davis from the FBI about their involvement in this case and any knowledge of your current location." Ranger continued.

"Why was Agent Davis in my apartment?" _I hadn't called him—or anyone after I'd arrived at Rangeman last night. I hadn't made any calls this morning either, so how did they know to check my apartment?_ "They didn't find a body did they?" I cringed raising my eyes to Ranger's face. _A bloody jacket was creepy enough, when people started giving me body parts or whole bodies I tended to go a little crazy._

One side of Ranger's mouth quirked up. "No, no body. One of your neighbors noticed your door was wide open this morning and called the police because it seemed suspicious. I don't know if anyone else went through your apartment, or took anything before the neighbor reported it. We won't know that until we get the crime scene report or until Rafael and Caesar get a chance to actually go into the apartment and report back in."

"We can't call them now to ask?"

"No," Ranger said shaking his head slightly. "Agent Davis is flexing his jurisdictional right be a Dick and has them currently on their way to the NYPD station as possible suspects."

"What?!" I cried. "That's ridiculous! They can't get into trouble for showing up to check on my stuff!"

 _Could they?!_

"No, they can't." Ranger agreed with a conviction that settled some of the butterflies in my stomach. "It's merely an inconvenience at this point—Davis wants to start a Dick measuring contest. It's not unexpected in a situation like this. He's got nothing to hold them with for more than a few hours, especially since both men are alibied by internal building video and traffic cams if need be. They'll be released before 5pm. They know the drill, they'll be fine. I'm basically paying them to sit on their asses in New York and stare at a wall."

I glanced up at him, was that a subtle reminder that I was costing him money and men again? It seemed like a low blow, one I couldn't see Ranger making intentionally—but then he didn't look very happy with me earlier either. We both appeared to be pushing each other's buttons lately. Maybe Ranger _was_ getting tired of bailing me out and bleeding money every time I got into trouble. I couldn't blame him.

He paused again, drawing in a deep breath and leaning back against his seat. "You sure you want to do this Stephanie?"

I didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes. But if you don't want to help me I under—"

"That's not even a question Steph." Ranger's sharp voice cut me off. "I'm going to help you." Ranger's eyes darkened and the line of his jaw clenched again. "Exactly how much presence Rangeman will be allowed in this case will have to be worked out with Agent Davis's superiors this afternoon. I happen to know his Direct Report and the Assistant Director over his field operations so it shouldn't be a problem to enforce some basic safety measures that should have been taken—and would have been, with any other agent." He paused again and something shifted in his face, he looked uncomfortable with the next words he wanted to say. Red flags went up in my mind and I held my breath expecting for the worst.

"When was the last time you spoke with Alex?"

 _There it was,_ I thought. _The pass off, there was no Joe now, so Ranger was going with the next warm body on the horizon in his desperation to get away from me._

It felt like a kick to the gut despite the odd choice of alternative companionship. He always tried to tell me Morelli was a good man. I thought Ranger hated Alex. I guess anything was better than the idea of me hanging around Rangeman mooning over Ranger like a love sick puppy.

 _Well fuck that, fuck him. Not this time, he could go screw himself!_ _I wasn't a toy to be passed off to the next kid in class because he was tired of playing with me!_ I drew myself up, straightening my spine and bit the words out through clenched teeth glaring at him. "You know what Manoso? Go _Fuck_ yourself." I shoved back from the table firmly with both hands and jerked to my feet as my chair rolled away with the force of my movement.

He had the freaking audacity to look surprised by my outburst; right before anger flashed hard and cold across his features. "Care to explain that statement Stephanie?"

I snorted. I thought it was pretty easy to understand. I was sick of being used and handed off. I resented it, and _it hurt_ —it was a low blow and a knife to the heart even knowing it was coming. "Alex is _none_ of _your_ business," I snapped. The constant flip flopping between affection and distance, hot and cold, it was too much to take anymore. _I couldn't do this, deal with this…_ "and you know what?" I let out a laugh that felt ice cold in my throat and completely devoid of humor. "It would _really_ help if you'd make up your damn mind!"

"About?" Ranger growled narrowing his eyes at me.

"You either want me, or you don't!" I snarled suddenly white hot again. "I don't want to play these games anymore!" He'd made his position pretty clear with the same actions over, and over again—I was just the idiot who kept the record on repeat hoping the tune would magically change somehow. _What was the saying? Fool me once, shame on you._ _Fool me twice, shame on me._

I didn't feel shame though, what I felt was fucking pissed off!

Ranger was on his feet stalking around the table while I back pedaled towards the door, every line in his body aggressive and telegraphing tightly controlled rage. "What game is it _exactly_ you _think_ we're playing?"

 _What game was it? Was he serious?!_ The same one Ranger always played! Did he think I couldn't pick up on the fact that he only wanted me when I was with someone else, or should be unavailable to him—how far could he push me, how far would I let him? It was the same game he played after Dechooch without explaining the rules—dangling himself in front of me as the almost attainable happily ever after, right before he slammed the door in my face and told me to fix my issues with a consolation prize.

 _One Ranger might be all I'd ever need, but a mere Shadow of Ranger was all I could ever have and I was sick of it._

I might have very little dignity left when it came to Ranger, but I was going to keep what was left of it, even if it killed me to draw the line in the sand. I fought back the hot prickle of tears. I refused to cry in front of him, not about this. I couldn't let him know how much this affected me.

I was still scared if Ranger ever realized just how madly in love with him I really was he'd disappear from my life completely, I was sure of it. I'd told Ranger I wouldn't sleep with him before and he'd stuck around, but falling in love with him was another matter. Anytime Ranger sensed I was getting too involved emotionally he pulled back—always. I was also beyond steaming mad at this point, and couldn't seem to shut my mouth, not that I was trying particularly hard.

 _Guess this anger was a long time coming and I hadn't even realized it._

"Oh come on!" I snarled bitterly unbidden tears pooling in my eyes I'm sure he noticed. I blinked frantically and turned my back stalking away from him towards the door trying desperately to keep it together. I stopped a few feet from the doors spinning back to snap "I might be slow on the uptake but I'm not _that_ stupid!"

 _I could read between the lines. I remembered this speech from before._ _Vividly._ _He didn't need to spell it out and humiliate me further!_ _At least he dismissed the guys first so we didn't have an audience!_ "Please don't insult my intelligence anymore than you already have today!"

Ranger's blank face slammed down like a light switch flipping off every emotion in his features and eyes except the mild bristle of angry tension still locking his shoulders. "Clearly we're not on the same page." The words were crisp and cold. They burned and twisted, hot agony slamming through me like a knife to the gut nearly sending me to my knees.

 _The same page? He wanted to be on the same page?_ _We weren't even reading the same book!_ I sucked back a sob.

 _Not here, not right in front of him Stephanie. Don't cry. Not now. Keep it together!_

"Are we done here?" My voice was trembling. I wanted to run away before I really started to cry and I couldn't stop. I've cried in front of Ranger enough the last 24 hours. I think if I just didn't have to look at the cold detached void of emotion so different from the Ranger I'd seen last night and this morning I could keep it all together. I just needed time to bottle this all up, shove it all down and lock it away. If Ranger could do it, so could I damn it!

"No." Ranger growled viciously. Something went through his eyes faster than I could read before the lines of his jaw tightened. "We're _never_ done. But I think maybe we need to shelve this until later."

 _Yeah Okay. I'd pencil him in to finish ripping out my heart right before I threw myself off the building or ran naked down Hamilton at rush hour._ "Fine." I managed through gritted teeth.

Ranger seemed to deflate in front of me, the tired lines were back as he scrubbed his palms over his face and leaned back so his hip rested against the edge of the conference room table behind him. He seemed older in an instant, and vulnerable, wounded. The shift hit me harder than his cold apparent indifference moments before.

"Fine Steph, that's fine. Go up to seven; get something to eat, take a nap, watch tv—whatever you want. We'll meet here at 1500 hours."

It took me a second to make my legs move. I'd have taken some satisfaction to being the one leaving Ranger standing there looking bewildered while I hit the door but I was too busy trying to avoid throwing up in the large fern outside the conference room doors.

 _What the fuck just happened?_

I was going to be sick. Mindful of the camera's probably watching me as I left the conference room behind I kept my steps as quick and even as I could on wobbly legs. I made it to the elevator and hit the call button but when I stepped inside my finger hesitated over the number seven before dropping my hand to smash five instead.

I didn't want to eat, and I'd never felt less like lying in Ranger's bed; tossing and turning on sheets that smelled like him all while feeling heartsick and thinking about his words, his cold detachment—and then the look on his face right before I walked out. _Like I'd stabbed him in the back and ripped out his heart…_

I bit the inside of my cheek and covered my mouth with one hand to keep the sob from bubbling out in front of the always watchful eyes on monitors. I wrapped my other hand in a white knuckled fist around the railing behind my back trying to stay upright, hoping the gasping heaves of my shoulders didn't look like the beginning of sobs.

The doors opened on five and I made it into the thankfully empty men's bathroom just to the right of the elevator and into a stall before the twisting in my gut brought my breakfast up in a series of violent gut wrenching heaves. I vomited until my stomach had nothing left to give up then I blew my nose, and flushed the evidence down before moving to the sink to swish and spit, rinsing my mouth repeatedly and wishing for breath mints or a tooth brush.

My stomach still felt sour but there was nothing left in it to come up. I splashed cool water over my face and blotted the heat from my cheeks with a handful of paper towels breathing deeply _._

 _I needed to accept this. I was friends with Ranger, just friends._ _I may love him but I couldn't let him keep using me like this, it was tearing me apart inside._ _Ranger was the master of hiding his thoughts and emotions, whatever I saw—or thought I saw upstairs and in that conference room…I just couldn't let myself believe it._

I balled up the paper towels wiping water droplets from the sink top so I didn't leave a mess for Ella and tossed them into the trash before stepping out. I couldn't go upstairs. Not only did everything up there remind me of Ranger but I had nothing to do. I needed to occupy my mind and my hands if possible. I needed to feel like I'd accomplished something useful, helped solve this case so I wasn't just another drain on Rangeman's financials. And then when this case was over I was going to get serious about training. The way I felt right now I didn't know if I could work for Rangeman and deal with seeing Ranger every day, holding him at arm's length to save my sanity and my heart. Maybe if I actually took my skip chasing job as seriously as I had this one the last few months I wouldn't need to depend on Ranger so much, and then if I did need his help on a rare occasion I wouldn't drowned in guilt over it.

I breezed through the cubicles on five keeping my chin up and my spine ram rod straight headed towards the back wall of the main room where Ranger and Tank's office doors stood.

Ranger's was closed since I was pretty certain he was still downstairs or didn't want to be disturbed at the moment. But Tanks' stood open and I could see the big man himself hunched behind the desk as I approached.

If I felt like I could look Ranger in the eye right now without bursting into tears or punching him in the throat I'd ask him—but I felt like my emotions were out of control, boiling just beneath a thin surface layer like frosted glass that could crack at any moment. I think some distance between us was the safer way to go until I could wrap myself in a nice thick layer of denial and pretend it didn't hurt.

I hated asking Tank for anything, it just felt weird. I tried not to ask Ranger for help whenever I could—he knew this of course, so he was usually the one to offer assistance whenever I ran into a wall or hit a bump. _If he offered and I accepted it was okay right?_ But asking might make him feel obligated to spend time and money on resources he didn't have. Maybe it was foolish, but that's how I always felt. Maybe it was part of my Burg upbringing and my Mother's constant harping—I didn't want to bother Ranger with my troubles, but if he asked it was okay because he wanted to help and offered freely. I didn't particularly want to ask for a favor now, even such a small one. But I didn't have another option right now, and I knew Tank was capable of setting up what I wanted same as Ranger—if it was possible.

I stopped just outside the open door and eyed Ranger's second in command. Tank is a mountain of a man, aptly named with dark skin, a shaved head and the shoulders of a grizzly bear. His biceps are probably bigger than my waist without even flexing and he intimidated people simply by breathing. When I first met him he threw a drug dealer out a third story window and nearly gave me a heart attack. I've since come to realize that Tank has a pretty weird sense of humor and thought that scaring the crap out of me was pretty damn funny on my first day.

The fact that I hadn't quit after that I found out later had earned me the first small mark of respect in Tank's book. Three years later I think Tank likes me, despite the fact that he barely talks, he rarely smiles and he often seems stressed to the point of locking me on seven whenever Ranger is in the Wind we have established a working respect for each other. Still, this was going to be one of the first times I'd come to him instead of Ranger when I needed to ask for something directly—something I was positive wouldn't slide past him especially since Ranger was in the building not in some third world hell hole.

Tank might be big and quiet, but he is not stupid.

Tank was staring at me and I realized I'd been standing in his doorway without saying a word for a few minutes at least, lost in my own thoughts, giving him plenty of time to assess my current state of mind and appearance. Tank could probably tell instantly that I'd been crying just minutes before; he might have even been watching me on the monitors. His eyes narrowed as I focused on him and flicked to the empty doorway behind me before he sighed pulling dainty looking reading glasses off the end of his nose with two thick fingers and dropping them onto his keyboard with a small clatter. "Did you need something Bomber?" He asked rubbing a hand over his smoothly shaved head.

"Ranger mentioned he was able to look up the files for my case—I was wondering I mean, if it's not too much trouble, I know it's probably illegal…"

Tank's hand dropped to the desk with a look of resignation. "Just spit it out Steph."

"I want to look at what they have on this guy, and the other girls, the victims—I'd like to see the file." _Maybe there was a connection or a trigger, something had to be setting him off or I'd already be dead if he was following me right?_

Tanks mouth tightened. "You want Rodrigues to give you the official homicide records and crime scene reports from the NYPD?"

I nodded nibbling my lip and wondering if I was asking too much.

"Do you want to use your cubicle or Lester's office?" Tank asked.

"Lester has an office?" I'd only ever seen him working from a cubicle on the main floor, or sitting in the Control Room.

"Yeah," Tank said. "He just hates using it. He'd rather be out on the floor where he can prank the other guys and gossip like a school girl. That and he kept goofing off so Ranger moved him to the floor." I swear Tank rolled his eyes but it was so fast I might have imagined it.

"Um, where is Lester?" I questioned. It bothered me that he'd been conspicuously absent since I'd arrived last night. Lester was usually here, as far as I know he still lived in an apartment on four, and after his help during my last visit I was hoping maybe I could at least talk to someone that understood what I was going through with this job. Maybe even work on some new moves if he had time.

Tank pursed his lips, stood up and started walking. "His office is down here." He pointed out. He lead me two doors down to a smaller office—still big enough to rival what I'd had during my job at EE Martin, but smaller then Tank or Ranger's certainly. The lights were off and Tank flipped them on illuminating an impersonal room with a large window, a wood desk, office chair and a computer monitor. It looked very un-Lester. I spotted a small South Park character bobble head half hidden from the door in front of the computer monitor's base.

"This is Lester's office?" I asked skeptically taking in the corporate beige walls, the nondescript wood desk smaller then Tank's or Ranger's but still nice. Other than the bobble head it looked so monotonous and just very un-Lester!

"What were you expecting?" Tank asked from beside me.

"I dunno," I mused staring at the office _. A wet-bar, Playboy Bunny wallpaper, or one of those posters featuring a blonde bikini model with huge boobs leaning on a hot rod hood like my Dad had hidden behind the side door in my parent's garage when I was really young…_

"Ranger objected to the Bunny's being out of uniform."

I blinked up at him. _Did Tank just make a joke?_ I watched him cross the short space to the desk with a straight face and pull out the chair gesturing for me to sit in it. He leaned over and turned on the computer tower once I was seated and we waited the few short seconds for the monitor and hard drive to kick on.

"I'll have the hardcopies brought to you. You still have your Rangeman password and log-in for the system?"

I nodded. The screen lit up and a few seconds later I was staring at a very familiar face on a body that wasn't.

"What the Hell?" I stared at my bizarre obviously photoshopped doppelganger and frowned.

Tank looked like he was hiding a grin behind his palm as he wiped at his mouth. "You look good in blue." He said in a measured and even voice.

It wasn't the swimsuit I was gaping at; it was the double D boobs barely contained under it! They were bigger then my actual head! I reached up and socked Tank in the arm with my fist. _Ouch, it was like punching a wall!_ Tank didn't even seem to notice _._ I rubbed my knuckles figuring I'd just added to my ever growing collection of bruises.

"We'll just change this." Tank leaned over me and hit a few buttons on the mouse and the desktop switched to a neutral Rangeman black with the non-offensive RM logo.

 _Yeah too late big guy, I'd already seen my big-booby-twin. I was sooo going to kick Lester's ass when I saw him, or try at least._

"It's not you I'm worried about." Tank grumbled straightening up. "I'll have the files sent to you immediately."

"Thanks."

"No problem, anything else I should know about?" Tank paused at the door shooting me a pointed look I didn't want to read too much into.

I stared at him feigning ignorance and shrugging one shoulder. "I don't know what you mean."

Tank shook his head and walked away. It sounded like he was muttering to himself as he went. After he walked away I realized he'd never told me where Lester went.

I settled myself in hoping to learn something that could help catch this guy faster, something other than simply hanging around in constant danger waiting for him to strike. _Time to be useful._

I pulled up Rangeman's search program and signed myself in to it. Then I signed into the private in office email Rodrigues had set up for me when I worked for Ranger years ago. They'd never shut it down despite my leaving shortly after. I figured that was how Rodrigues would send me the files, electronically. I spun in Lester's chair and stared out the window until the computer behind me beeped letting me know I had an incoming message. I spun around to open it at the same time Hector walked in with a thick stack of folders in his hands. He nodded to me and set them down on the desk.

"Thanks Hector."

"De nada," He paused for a moment at the door turning back to me, "be careful angelita. This man is sick." His eyes flicked to the files and I had little doubt Hector had gone over every page as he'd printed the information for Ranger. He didn't look happy leaving it on the desk between us.

"Thanks Hector."

He nodded once expression solemn and left.

I slid the file towards me across the desktop and flipped open the brown folder revealing the top sheet inside. Rangeman had certainly left nothing out I realized flipping through the pages. I had in my hands what appeared to be every scrap of evidence and official note on this case spanning the last eleven months. Crime scene reports for each of the woman killed, basic background information on the victims, the same glossy 8x10's of their faces before their deaths, and a lot of 8x10's of them after. I swallowed drawing in a deep breath glad I'd already thrown up breakfast.

I started sifting through the information pulling out the most basic background on each victim; ages, where they lived, worked. I quickly realized this information was scanty at best. I needed far more information than this; I needed to look for patterns, connections. I needed to know if they crossed paths or knew each other. I typed the first six victim's names into the Rangeman search engine and started the powerful system thinking with the click of a mouse. While it worked I pulled out a sheet of white paper from the printer on the shelf beside the desk and started opening desk drawers until I found office supplies including a box of unopened pens and a Three Musketeers bar.

 _Hot Damn, Pay dirt!_ I pulled out the candy bar out planning to eat it in retaliation for the balloon boobed Photoshop job and popped the box of pens open shaking out one into my palm before dropping the box back inside the drawer and sliding it shut.

I clicked the pen and wrote seven numbers down the left side of the paper in front of me, then went back to the top and next to number one I wrote Ashley. Next to two I wrote Jenny; followed by Lauren at three proceeding down the list with, Holly, Naomi, then Ember at six and Yvonne at seven. I drew a bracket around the last two names and noted it with the word 'together', though I knew that already I was hoping something would stand out, seeing it in writing.

I paused a moment staring at the page then I added number eight and wrote 'homeless guy' and a question mark next to it. I didn't have an official report stating the homeless man I'd tripped over was the unfortunate soul to donate the blood left on Ranger's jacket, but my gut told me he'd been victim number eight and it was my fault. A man was dead because I decided to avoid geese while walking through the park. My mother was right, these kinds of things didn't happen to other people's daughters.

I tried to shove away the heavy threads of guilt trying to wrap around my mind choking my thoughts and focused on studying the list of names in front of me. Up until now I'd avoided thinking about the previous victims as much as possible. I had enough nightmares without dwelling on them on purpose. But something had to connect them other than just looks right? And how did Yvonne fit in with that profile?

Clearly Ember was his type, but then what was Von? Was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? All the other girls had been killed alone— _why did he take the risk of killing them both that night? Why didn't he wait if he'd followed Naomi all the way to New Jersey before killing her?_ _What if I'd come outside a few minutes before?_ _Would one of them still be alive now, or both of them?_ _Or would I be dead now too?_

I clearly fit the victim profile if that was all the killer cared about, that was why Jose had singled me out for this job trying to get revenge on Ranger. It was why Davis had grudgingly agreed to let me in, even he could see it. You'd have to be blind not to. The other six girls and I could be mistaken for cousins side by side, maybe even sisters.

 _So why Yvonne?_ I tapped my pen against the desktop rapidly staring at the list in front of me.

The list didn't seem to be helping so I pulled out another sheet of paper and drew a line down the center of it. At the far left side of my line I made a mark with the date Ashley was killed, then Jenny, and Lauren until I had a timeline showing the approximate space between each death.

I sat back and stared at it, the gaps between made no sense, they were chaos. Ashley died, then two months later Jenny. There was barely a month between her and Lauren and exactly 27 days between Lauren and Holly.

 _What had Tamsin said?_ They usually speed up—the more they get away with it they get cocky, sloppy, they make a mistake.

I stared at the timeline. _These dates were all over the place!_ There was no consistency between murders, no obvious shortening of time. It didn't make sense because there were three months between Holly and Naomi after only a month between the previous two. Naomi, was also unusual compared to the others being the only girl murdered not in New York during a commute or after work but in New Jersey in Newark. He had to follow her across stateliness waiting to strike.

Two weeks later I tripped in front of Jose the Dick and ended up as bait. If Naomi hadn't been murdered in Newark Jose probably wouldn't have been aware of the case at all and this would never have happened.

I tapped my pen again.

Three months between four and five, almost four whole months between that and the night he killed both Yvonne and Ember. Not speeding up then, unless it was taking him that long to find each new victim. A shiver crawled down my spine thinking of him standing in the alleyway that night, watching me find their bodies.

 _Was my clock already ticking, or was there some other factor they were missing, some trigger that set him off, drove him to kill the others when he did?_

I laid out the photos from each crime scene—not all of them, just one each on top of the desk side by side, there was barely enough room between the keyboard, monitor and edges. Unlike Von and Ember, Lauren and Holly were more recognizable. Ashley and Jenny the first two women seemed the most…sloppy… unorganized, compared to the others. Both had marks on their forearms and hands the reports called defensive wounds. Jenny had broken off fingernails but they never found them.

Something had changed between the first two women and the third. _Had he gotten lucky? Gotten better?_ _Surprised everyone else so they didn't have a chance to fight back?_

 _No that wasn't right_.

He'd attacked both Yvonne and Ember and neither had a chance to fight back—I certainly would have. I couldn't see Yvonne going down without a fight. I picked up the photo of her body trying not to look at her face. No marks on her arms, or hands that looked like defensive wounds. Most of Von's wounds were to her back, right side. Ember's wounds were mostly to her front side. I stood to set Yvonne's photo back down and on the desk and something in the photo below it caught my eye. It was a close up of the wounds on the back of Yvonne's neck. It looked like the edge of a burn, the mark was distorted by a knife wound running right through it but I knew that mark. I started flipping through the other photos searching everyone for the same mark, I needed more space papers were threatening to slide off the desk and scatter across the floor. I'd already had to bend over and pick up several different photos that fell onto the floor.

I gathered everything into a pile on the desk and scooped it up in my hands moving down the hall to an empty conference room. I eyed the tactical white boards and memo tack boards hanging on the walls then I started separating each girl into a separate section on the table. Having a fourteen foot conference table helped. I moved my timeline to one of the dry erase boards then I went back to Lester's office and started printing my search results to the conference room printer. There was already a stack about twenty pages deep by the time I came back to the conference room.

I started with Ashley—credit and spending history for the three months before her death, friends, hang outs. I made a separate timeline in the space under her name on the whiteboard trying to find something, anything that would show a pattern, a key point indicating when he chose her, or when he snapped and decided to kill her.

I'd worked my way down the white board all the way to Naomi when the conference room doors opened and the back of my neck started to tingle. I didn't take my eyes off the white board in front of me. Behind me the sound of one of the office chairs rolling back on its wheels alerted me that Ranger was sitting down. Neither of us spoke, maybe he didn't know what to say either—or maybe he just had nothing _to_ say. The heavy weighted stare on my back didn't feel that way though. Ranger was simply taking his time—waiting me out.

I finished scribbling notes under Naomi's name and stepped back staring at the board as a whole, and then shifted my attention to the cork board next to it where I'd tacked up photos of the same mark I'd identified on Yvonne's neck and Ember's chest. I'd circled the marks with a dry erase marker so I wouldn't destroy the photos in case they were borrowed police property instead of just copies.

There were hints of the same mark on Naomi and Holly but not on Lauren or the previous victims. Maybe I just couldn't find them, maybe they'd been cut up so they were lost and unrecognizable; or maybe he'd changed his method of attack. If I was right about the origin of the marks, and I had a lot of experience with taser burns, that would explain why none of the later girls fought back when they were attacked.

It was rewarding to find something that wasn't noted in any of the coroner or crime scene reports, something the experts might have missed. But it was also terrifying to realize if this guy used the same method to come after me the lights would go out and I'd be dead before I could react.

 _Just like Yvonne and Ember._

Ranger was still waiting silent as a shadow behind me. Not surprising, Ranger is the King of Silence. He had the distinct ability to layer the very air in each silence so that even the absence of words carried weight and a message. Without even turning to acknowledge his presence I knew there was something Ranger wanted to say, and it was something big.

Our earlier conversation and the pain still curled tightly in my chest squeezing my heart tighter and tighter the moment he walked in kept my back turned towards him. For possibly the first time ever I didn't _want_ Ranger to talk. I didn't want to hear what he might say, the possible finality of it terrified me more than the photos in front of me ever could.

So I changed the subject before he could even begin hoping that would work, Ranger had done the same thing to me countless times before.

"He used a stun gun." My voice somehow remained steady despite the horrors displayed all around me, the thoughts swirling inside my head and the ache in my chest. Ranger didn't shift, didn't speak; but I knew he was listening, waiting for me to continue just the same.

"They never had a chance to fight back." It could have been over before they'd even shook off the disorientation of the electrical discharge. I thought of Hal going down like a ton of bricks and dragged teeth over my bottom lip startled to taste the coppery hint of blood. I ran my tongue over my lip wiping it away realizing I'd been chewing my lower lip to shreds, probably for the last few hours. I pulled a deep breath in before turning to look at him finally. "He stunned them; held it there long enough to burn their skin with the contacts. Then he stabbed them while they were helpless."

There were clearly defined lines at the corners of Ranger's eyes again, the taut set of his mouth matching the layered emotion in his eyes. We stared at each other for almost a full minute the only sound in the room my own breathing.

I gave up first with a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping with the weight sitting in my chest slowly crushing me. "What do you want Ranger?"

His voice was low, reserved and carefully pitched. "It's fifteen after. I thought you wanted to be involved in the meeting with Davis and his superiors."

My eyes flicked to the clock on the wall beside the conference room doors. _Shit._ I'd kept them all waiting the last twenty minutes. I dropped the pages I'd been holding onto the table dragging my fingers through my hair and catching loose curls behind my ears. "I didn't realize the time, sorry."

 _I hope I hadn't made him look bad when he was going to bat for me—again._

"Did you find anything else?" Ranger was staring at the whiteboards on the wall behind my back. He certainly didn't look hurried to return to the conference room on two despite the delay. I shook my head slowly.

"You've got one of the best minds I've ever met for seeing patterns and finding connections other people miss. I'm sure you'll find something."

I had to blink away fresh tears at the compliment focusing over his shoulder at the wall and clear my throat twice. "Thanks."

"You don't need to thank me Steph, it's the truth." He stood eyes boring into me again, his gaze remained intense but lacked even a flicker of his earlier anger, there was something else there instead, something I didn't feel comfortable identifying in my current frame of mind.

"Take a break, sometimes we're too close to see what's in front of us."

"Yeah, okay." I followed him out of the conference room emotions waring with my thoughts when Ranger's hand swept around my back halfway to the elevator. The warm firm pressure of his hand ushering me into the elevator felt calming, and reassuring.

 _We were going to be okay, whatever was happening between us; Ranger wasn't walking away—he was still here._ The elevator doors slide shut as we entered and Ranger pressed the button for the second floor before sliding his hand from my lower back further around my side tugging me against him from hip to shoulder. The hand he'd used to activate the elevator cupping the side of my face turning me into him enough that his lips brushed over my forehead softly.

I didn't want to, but just that simple touch, such a small shower of affection and my whole body leaned against him going boneless and heavy, my eyes slipping shut with a shuddering breath. The elevator dinged open on two before I could wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in the crook of his neck and beg him to hold me just like this, never let go. His lips brushed my curls whisper soft and then Ranger was ushering me out of the car again and down the same hall I'd followed Tank down towards the conference room doors. His hand dropped from my back two steps before the doors as he opened them ahead of me and nodded me in with a subtle dip of his chin.

 _Right. The FBI was here, possibly the NYPD too._ _I needed to be professional here and not embarrass Ranger, Rangeman or myself—if possible._ And then I nearly got the wind knocked out of me by a rapidly approaching blur of Blonde hair and blue eyes.

I rocked so far back on my heels if Ranger's hand hadn't reached out to steady me I might have tumbled straight onto my ass taking her with me. Tamsin jerked back from me a split second later to point an irate finger a hairsbreadth from my nose. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" She hissed, ice blue flashed at me right before I was squeezed into another hug and Tamsin whispered so quiet I wasn't even sure Ranger standing a foot away could hear. "I thought he had you. I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry."

Tamsin drew back just as swiftly again, almost as if remembering where we were and who was around, arms crossing over her chest the same assessing sharp edge to her eyes I'd seen before firmly planted on her face. "It happens again and you will be." She narrowed her eyes over my shoulder before nodding her head once with a suddenly derisive twist to her lips. "Manoso."

"Tamsin." Ranger returned evenly cluing me in that they knew each other before using his hand against my lower back to steer me around Tamsin and to one of the open chairs beside Ram. He pulled the one closest to Ram back indicating I should sit before taking the one immediately to my left. His position next to me, instead of on the other side of the table soothed my left over nerves. Tamsin had circled the table and returned to her empty seat as well. Davis was glaring at her but she met his expression with one of her own and he looked away first. She winked at me then turned serious again.

"Now that we're all here after being kept waiting in an obvious power trip," Davis snapped.

"It's my fault we're late." I blurted out and Davis glared at me over the table. "I lost track of time working on something."

"We're here to discuss the lack of security measures and Ms. Plum's direct involvement with your case." Travis Bentley's voice rang out from the other side of Ranger's chair. I hadn't even noticed he was here. I glanced down the table and saw besides Ram, Bobby and Tank were in the room again—but still no Lester.

From my right Ram pushed a thick folder towards me with one finger. I glanced up at him and he nodded his head towards it in invitation so I opened it up. It was the case file from the FBI. I blinked up at him in confusion and he smiled before turning his attention back to the chatter going on back and forth over the table. I started sifting through the pages in front of me, comparing them to what I already had—these were different then what I had gotten from Hector. Instead of being typed, a lot of these notes were hand written—Davis's notes judging by the signatures. Apparently Davis had spent a lot of time investigating the boyfriends of the first few victims and was convinced one of them was somehow the killer despite alibi's and lack of evidence.

"Of course Rangeman and all its employees would be legally bound by a gag order regarding this case." The man sitting next to Davis was saying when I looked up. He had a silent air of authority, greying close-cropped hair and a pressed button down shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbow over muscular forearms gone a bit soft with desk life and a carefully pressed tie.

"The same gag order that Ms. Plum violated by coming here?" Davis snarled. "We should be charging her!"

"Silent or dead Davis, which would you prefer?" Tamsin snarled from beside him eyes narrowed. "One more dead body—a civilian contractor that is actively working hand in hand with the department on this case? That would look _great_ on that resume."

"Me?" He snarled. "He was in your damn club, right under your God Damn Nose!" Davis raged slapping his hands on the table. "And you've still got nothing!"

"He wasn't stalking Yvonne!" I snapped back at Davis furious that he was attacking Tamsin. "He was after Ember you dipshit!"

"Then why the fuck are they both dead!?" Davis shouted.

 _Why were they? Why_ ….my head was buzzing, timelines and dates, names… across the table Davis was still ranting on and on, Bentley objecting to something he was saying from the end of the table.

 _Why did he kill two girls, not just one?_ And then it hit me. _Oh, My God. How did he miss this?_ _It was all right here in his notes!_ _He'd just been looking at it all wrong._

"Because they were together, he killed them because they were together."

Everyone was staring at me suddenly.

"Oh, that's fucking brilliant, thank you for that assessment!" Davis started throwing a hand in the air and clearly scoffing at me.

"No." I answered flipping through the notes in front of me. "You don't understand."

"Babe?"

"You tried to pin the first few murders on the boyfriends—you even thought it was suspicious that Holly and Lauren had just started seeing someone at the time of their deaths!" I flipped over a few more pages, "And here," I turned the paper around to show him his own photocopied notes taping my finger over the line. "Naomi came to Newark to see her boyfriend—he said he hadn't seen her in weeks because of school and work. That's why the timeline doesn't make sense! It's not that it takes him that long to find them; he doesn't kill them until he sees them with someone else! Whatever sick fantasy he's got in his head, seeing them with another man—or in Em's case, a woman is too much for him to handle and he snaps! He _is_ getting sloppier, just like Tamsin said—he didn't wait to kill Ember when she was alone, this time having his fantasy shattered was so upsetting he attacked her that night before she was alone. Within twenty minutes of us arriving at the club. He didn't attack Naomi while she was with her boyfriend, he waited until she was alone but he didn't wait till she returned to New York. He was in that club on Em's birthday—he saw them together and he lost it!"

Beside me Ram's whisper sounded awed. "GodDamn Bombshell!"

I stopped looking at Davis and turned to stare down the man next to him—who I was going to assume was Davis's boss. "You want to flush this guy out; you don't just need a girl that looks like his type—he's got to see her with someone else after he fixates on her, that's what makes him snap."

 _I didn't just need protection in New York. I needed a Boyfriend._

"I told you she was good." Tamsin said from the end of the table smiling at me.

"Just how long have you been studying this case Ms. Plum?" The man sitting across from me asked hands folded on the table between us.

 _Was I supposed to admit Rangeman had the files? Did he already know? Would that get Ranger into trouble?_ Under the table Ranger squeezed my knee. It might have meant shut up, but I didn't think so.

"The last two hours Sir waiting for this meeting, that's why I was late—I was looking at the notes. I lost track of time. I also know why the last four victims at least didn't put up much of a fight. There are taser burn marks on the back of Von's neck running right over one of the knife wounds, and Ember has one on her throat and another on her chest. He's using a stun gun that continues to discharge as long as the button is depressed—he might have modified it himself. So he knows something about electronics. He's using it to keep them from screaming or fighting back when he kills them. I'd bet he stuns them, then stabs, and then if they start to fight he stuns them again. To leave burns like that; they wouldn't be able to scream, move or even breathe. It would be physically impossible for anyone, even someone Ram or Ranger's size. He could suffocate them using the electricity before he ever stabbed them."

He leaned back in his seat eyes flicking to my left a moment before he smiled at me, "And in two hours, you picked that up? Do you have a background in Criminology, or Psychology Ms. Plum?"

 _Was he doubting my conclusion? Or telling me I was wrong?_ I felt my cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

"Stephanie is a Fugitive Apprehension Agent with a 100% capture rate." Ranger's hand squeezed my thigh again under the table before crossing both hands in front of him its surface. "She's the brightest and most intuitive person I've ever met. I've bet my life on her instincts before and clearly, she's been right."

I flushed again, but I felt like I was glowing under his praise.

Across from us the man nodded again. "And I trust your instincts Manoso. I've also taken a look at Ms. Plum's record before this meeting and I like what I see."

Beside him Davis was turning red.

"Rangeman will handle the security details," Ranger nodded to this apparent rehashing things already decided. Probably for my benefit—Ranger would have known the second I stopped paying attention earlier. "And if Ms. Plum is correct, and I see no reason she isn't—we certainly haven't had any luck flushing this man out. I think it's time we try out something new."

"Agent Davis will—"

 _Oh Hell no. I was not pretending to date that little shit! I'd rather taze myself in the face!_

Beside me Ram had to cover his snort with a cough and Tamsin was smirking again.

 _Oops_.

"No. Agent Davis has been on the case long enough it's possible the suspect could recognize him from newspapers. We need someone completely removed from this case to step in. He will however, send all pertinent information on the NYPD safe house Ms. Plum has been utilizing to your offices immediately so proper safety measures that should have been afforded to Ms. Plum from the start of this venture may be corrected."

 _If I didn't know any better I'd say that was a warning to Davis that he was being held accountable for that oversight personally._ He certainly paled when that was said.

"And we'll need to find an appropriate agent to act as her boyfriend." He eyed Ranger over the table suddenly with an expression that almost looked smug, "unless Rangeman would like to offer their assistance in handling that as well?"

"I would."

 _Ranger was going to send someone to pretend to date me? I guess that would be less awkward then pretending with some Cop or FBI agent I'd never met!_

"It would certainly be convenient to use someone in your company—they all have the necessary skills and training to act as both protection and a second set of eyes, as long as we're in agreement that Rangeman will not be receiving credit for this capture, even if it's your man that brings him down."

" _In_ , we want him alive." Davis snapped.

"Yes, I'm well aware of the Directors preference Agent Davis; serial killers are such a rare opportunity to study, certainly we should risk further loss of life for a little education."

Agent Davis looked a bit purple.

"I'd like to use Ram as a second set of eyes." Ranger announced. "He'll tail Stephanie when she goes out and can monitor her apartment from an empty unit down the hall without drawing attention to himself. We'd like to add monitoring equipment—motion activated video to her apartment exterior door and a camera monitored 24/7 by Rangeman on the exterior of the apartment building, the studio and Dominic's."

"I can see you came prepared as always. I shouldn't have expected less. Will Mr. Ram be filling in as Ms. Plum's boyfriend as well?"

"No," Ranger growled. "That would be me."

My stomach flipped and heat flushed my cheeks. Now I had to go to New York and try to piss off a serial killer while pretending Ranger was my boyfriend, in a one room apartment. I sucked in a breath and tried not to pass out from the sudden hot flash. _Ranger in my bed, Ranger in my shower…Oh God._ _So much for keeping a little distance while I figured this out._

.

* * *

.

 **To be continued...**


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer:** Not mine! If you've been reading these you know by now! :)

 **Notes:** Huge, Huge thanks to Fallharvst for the pre-read through!

Chapter 31 is here! :)

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty One**

* * *

Everyone was filing out of the room when Ranger put his hand on the back of my chair and uttered a soft, "Babe," finally drawing my attention.

I pushed back from the table and realized the meeting had ended while I was distracted having a mini panic attack in my head thinking about Ranger pretending to be my boyfriend. Ranger would be playing bait with me; this guy had killed both Ember and Yvonne the last time he snapped, he could come after us both. He'd killed an innocent man just because I tripped over him in the park—but putting Ranger into harm's way wasn't the source of my heart palpitations. Nope, the source of my near stroke level pulse was the mental image of Ranger living with me like during the Scrog fiasco. My brain was already flooding my senses with images of Ranger in normal clothes instead of Rangeman black. Ranger in my apartment doing normal everyday things; eating with him, sleeping next to him, and since he'd have to pretend to be my boyfriend we'd be acting in public too, possibly putting on more of a show and trying to get this guy's attention; just like we had with Scrog…

My mind pulled up the horrifying image of Ranger collapsing backwards onto the floor, blood flying out behind him, covering his neck, his chest… _oh God_. My stomach lurched. _That hadn't ended so well_.

 _Deep breathing Steph, you can do this. You can pretend and keep from crossing lines, we were both adults._ _This guy might be insane, but he wasn't better then Ranger—no one was, he was going to be fine, we were both going to be just fine._

My eyes traveled up Ranger's very adult chest ripped with dips and valleys of muscles to his broad set shoulders that belonged on a movie set gladiator, to the lines of his magazine worthy jaw and perfect nose, those dark intensely focused eyes watching me with a knowing twinkle. I licked my lips inadvertently and Ranger's eyes darkened, amusement crinkled at their corners and tilted the lines of his lush mouth.

"Babe," he tugged one of the curls hanging over my shoulder playfully letting it go to spring back into place and my heart lurched in my chest. "Smells like something's burning."

 _I was pretty sure it was my panties._ I sucked in a breath. _I was in so much trouble._

Ranger swept one hand towards the door indicating I should follow the rest of his men out. I moved in a sort of daze with the feeling of his hand pressed to the small of my back once more leading me out of the conference room. He kept the pressure constant as we walked down the now empty hallway to the elevator doors. Tank, Bobby and Ram must have taken the stairs, or maybe they had already escorted Tamsin and the others downstairs to the lobby or garage while I was lost in thoughts of Ranger and tripping over my own tongue.

We stepped inside the empty car and it started to rise without Ranger even hitting the button for seven. Probably Ranger had hit the key fob in his other pocket, or maybe it was the control room, but it felt like magic. Ranger's hand still on the small of my back dipped lower so his thumb glided over the two inch gap of skin above the waistband of my belt cinched cargos. I tried to ignore the rush of heat sliding down my spine at his touch. I felt Ranger's finger hook into the gap where my waistband was cinched into a puckered rise under my belt.

 _I must look like I was wearing my big brother's clothes._ His lips tilted in amusement but his eyes remained dark with a hint of another emotion entirely—one that made my stomach backflip nervously in anticipation of his hand sliding lower.

"Ella has some things for you to change into when we get upstairs."

He'd sent Ella shopping for me, again. I blew out a heavy breath ruffling the curls in front of my face as my chin dipped down. "You didn't have to do that. I have plenty of clothes in my apartment."

"We still don't know if your apartment has been vandalized. You need some things that fit just in case. Besides, Ella likes shopping for you. She wants to spoil you." His thumb swept over the dimples just above my belt again making me bite my lip to stop a shiver from rolling through me and popping out my mouth in a low moan. Ranger leaned closer while I was fighting a war with my hormones and whispered against the shell of my ear, "and so do I."

 _Sweet Jesus. Keep it together Stephanie._

I couldn't go tackling Ranger in an elevator in front of all of Rangeman. There were camera's pointed right at us! I shouldn't be tackling Ranger upstairs either!

 _Bad idea, such a bad idea._

We needed ground rules, something— _anything_ to keep me from ripping his clothes off over the next few days every time he glanced at me, or touched me even for a split second. We'd been alone for less than five minutes, he hadn't even kissed me and I was ready to implode.

The doors slid open with a muted ding revealing the marble floor of Seven's hallway leading to Ranger's private sanctuary. The still missing door creating a gaping doorway that left him exposed looked completely out of place with Ranger's habitual emphasis on security, and personal privacy.

I wondered if he was sleeping with the gun I'd seen him holding the night before in his hand or under his pillow since he didn't have a door. When he slept at my apartment he usually left his gun belt or at least his Glock on the nightstand within arm's reach—considering toddlers could break into my old apartment it wasn't an unreasonable precaution.

"When will you get your new door?"

"Sometime in the next two days," Ranger answered ushering us into the apartment and tossing his keys into the little silver dish inside the door before flipping on the recessed lights over the kitchen and eat-in bar buffering the living room. He dropped his hand and my skin felt too cool suddenly without his touch.

"Are you hungry?"

I had to think about it for a moment. After throwing up earlier I wasn't sure I felt like eating; but the sharp assessing look Ranger was shooting me through his lashes as he sifted through the mail Ella had left for him on the sideboard beside the silver dish that held his keys reminded me of his earlier concern that I was starving myself. He set the mail down, unopened none of it requiring his attention or piquing his interest I guess, and turned his full attention to me again. It was like staring into the sun.

"I could eat, I guess."

Ranger nodded and started pulling out raw items from the fridge instead of an already prepped dish like Ella usually left behind for us to reheat. I stared at the ingredients he was assembling and frowned softly wondering if maybe Ella was missing too, like Lester.

"Go get changed. I believe Ella has your things already put away on your side of the closet."

 _On my side._

I had a _side_ of _Ranger's_ closet. I tamped down on the ridiculous rush of pleasure over such a simple thought and left Ranger in the kitchen prepping something on the counter so I could see what Ella the Magical Rangeman Fairy Godmother had procured me this time.

My mouth fell open when I flipped the light on illuminating the inside of Ranger's envy inducing closet. My side used to consist of a small section in the front with a few official Rangeman Uniforms, and one or two items I left over here on occasion, or that Ella replaced because they were beyond saving after she found them in the garbage—usually after a calamitous skip chasing incident. I had developed a habit of showering and changing at Rangeman the last six months if the cops didn't have to show up to my disaster so the Burg busybodies wouldn't see me and talk.

The less calls I got from my Mother starting with 'why me?' and job grief from Joe demanding I quit; the less money I had to spend on Tasty Cakes and Ben and Jerry's therapy.

Now more than half the closet on the left side was awash with colors definitely not found in the Rangeman color wheel of black. Butter soft skinny jeans, floaty and ruffled skirts and dresses that I _know_ didn't come from the dredges of my clothing options at my old apartment. I'd instructed Grandma to bag those up and donate them to the Knights of Columbus rummage sale months ago. There was no sense in keeping them, even the nicer ones, none of those items would have fit me now that I'd been working out and lost weight. It seemed ridiculous to alter them to fit me considering I'd have to alter every single thing I owned, and that would cost almost as much as replacing them. Most of the knees had been ripped out of my old jeans anyway.

I could tell these were all new, though they didn't have tags. Ella would never leave a price tag for me to find—she knew I'd have a cow if I could actually equate an actual number to what she was spending. I tried to ignore the labels when Ranger brought me an outfit for a distraction, or a new uniform appeared in my closet at home because that he could write off as a business expense…I highly doubted anyone was going to believe 5 pairs of jeans and the mountain of other colors I was staring at we're 'on the job' appropriate! I flipped open the waistband on a pair of jeans and read the size. Ella had to be joking. No way was this going to fit me. It was the Rangeman pants all over again!

I stripped out of my baggy cargos sighing and pulled the jeans in question down from the rack shaking the legs out certain I'd have to jump around and preform a couple yoga moves I wouldn't want Ranger—or _anyone_ really, to witness in order to get them on.

Somehow despite my reservations they slid up my legs and over my hips like a second skin with the same ease of a custom glove. I could even button them without sucking in, and they felt comfortable and didn't dig into my stomach when I bent over to stare in wonder at the shoe organizer someone had added to my section of the closet since the last time I'd stayed here.

I completely forgot about choosing a shirt staring open mouthed at the colorful collection before me. An extra set of Cat boots I expected, a variety of athletic shoes okay, there were even some tasteful knee high boots and… _Shut the Front Door!_ There were high heeled shoes in here that cost more than my monthly rent on my old apartment! I picked one up and flipped it over inspecting the red sole on the bottom. _Oh Boy! Ella had really gone overboard this time._ _Ranger probably had no idea how much these shoes alone cost!_

I stumbled out of the bedroom still holding the shoe in my hand like the Holy Grail searching for the right words to question Ranger's wisdom in giving Ella free rein at the mall, or some fancy store outside of Trenton but what came out when I spoke was a breathless sort of gasped, "Are you crazy?!"

Something was sizzling in the sauté pan in front of him on the stove top as he turned around to answer me.

 _Suddenly the pan wasn't the only thing putting off heat._

"Keep walking around like that and I will be."

I glanced down and realized I was wearing the skinny leg jeans Ella bought me and a black lace demi bra that was completely see through. _Eek!_

 _Talk about waving a red flag in front of a bull_!

I fled back to the closet with a squeak and snatched the first shirt off the rack I saw, tugging it over my head before stomping back out to the kitchen. Ranger was scraping something off a chopping block into the pan, his back to me once more.

"Those are eight hundred dollar shoes!" I announced coming into the room.

"Do they not fit?"

" _Do they not_ …Ranger! They're _eight_ _hundred_ _dollars_!"

"And?" Ranger turned and cocked one eyebrow at me his eyes flicked over my shirt and he looked a little disappointed.

"And?! And there are ten of them!" I shot back throwing my hands up in the air to punctuate my irrefutable proof of this insanity.

"Not enough choices? I'll get you more."

My mouth was hanging open while I sputtered and Ranger had that thinking about smiling twitch to his lips.

The steam rising off of whatever he was stirring smelled absolutely mouthwatering, and my body was suddenly famished. My stomach growled loud enough for a nature documentary soundtrack. Ranger grinned clearly hearing it from ten feet away, "Grab two plates."

Dumbstruck by expensive shoes and Ranger cooking I moved on autopilot to the kitchen cabinet and pulled down two plates staring at the wide pan steaming in front of him. "What is that?" I recognized chicken, and rice, but not the scent, which smelled even more tantalizing from close up.

"Keep moaning and I'm going to get jealous babe. This is Arroz con pollo," Ranger said, which was clearly in Spanish and meant nothing to me. "My Abuella's recipe. Comfort food."

 _Ranger was not only cooking, Ranger was making a family recipe and what he considered comfort food. It was so bizarre I was speechless._

I could think of a lot of words to describe the enigma that is Ranger. For the most part the Man of Mystery was just that; he kept so much of his life and himself hidden for the first few months after I'd met him I'd struggled with the worry he was a criminal, or that at least some of his jobs were in areas of the law I'd rather not know about. Some of that mystery had fallen by the wayside over the last three years. After he stayed with me during Scrog for example, and when he needed my help to save his business—I caught tantalizing glimpses of Ranger the man instead of the soldier of fortune, but still a large percentage of his life remained private.

The silence and misdirection left me feeling that Ranger was holding me at arm's length, not in bed—but in every other aspect of his life that actually mattered. I was normally thrilled to learn any small detail about Ranger's life, no matter how trivial. Each one felt like a personal victory, the relaxing of a wall Ranger held himself behind safe from friend and foe.

 _So why did I find this gesture so strange?_ I suppose it was because when I thought of my own personal Batman ' _comfort'_ might be somewhere on the list of words I'd use to describe him to someone else. It just wasn't usually the first descriptive word that came to mind when I tried to describe him. It probably wouldn't have made it into the previous top ten, this was new—and it was nice, but it was throwing me for a loop again. It was like Ranger just completely relaxed, when just a few hours ago it felt like he was pushing me still. And God I couldn't think about all this when I was hungry.

 _I needed food. Food would help_. I eyed the pan he was still stirring. _It looked like a lot of veggies for comfort food. Where was the cheese?_

"It doesn't need cheese trust me." Ranger said.

 _He thought he was so smart, everything taste better with cheese._

"Bottom drawer of the fridge, left side." Ranger said with an air of resignation and I moved skeptically to check it out _._

 _I'll be damned!_

There was shredded cheese in here! _Cheese!_ _In Ranger's fridge!_ I didn't recognize the name, but it _said_ cheese _._

 _This was probably a warning sign of the apocalypse._

I stood back up with the package and Ranger took it out of my hand ripping the seal open and setting it to lean against the backsplash as he finished stirring the ingredients and shut the burner off.

"Plates," Ranger nodded his head and I circled him to the other side of the counter—why I don't know, he could easily have reached them; it was just so weird I lapsed into a complete stupor and my body was on some kind of autopilot. Ranger was studying me as I slid the plates across the countertop towards the stove with both hands so he could pick up the first one.

"Is it sexist to say I like seeing you in my kitchen?" Ranger's lips twitched.

If Joe had said something similar I'd have probably considered decking him or starting a screaming match so we could break up, certain he was hinting at marriage. With Ranger that wasn't a concern so I was free to snort and shake my head, shooting him a scathing look like he was nuts. Ranger had Ella to handle the domestic stuff, and Ranger apparently knew how to cook; knock me over with a feather on that one! Ranger wasn't auditioning anyone for the roll of housewife, and never would be.

I rolled my eyes at him in response, my breath catching in my throat at the humor crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Ranger relaxed and amused is a sight to behold. It was doing dangerous things to my body. I swallowed.

"It's pointless." I grumbled pulling two forks out of the drawer to my right slamming it shut with one hip, considering poking him with one in the arm before deciding against it. I'd probably just bend the tines.

"I can't cook _."_ I reminded him. _I'd probably burn the whole building down if I tried._

"Is it sexist to tell you I'm thinking about you in that black lace, and this countertop, _not_ cooking?"

 _HooBoy!_

I narrowed my eyes at him resisting the intense urge to fan myself. He didn't look even slightly contrite, his eyes were positively wicked and the tilt of his mouth made my knees weak.

"Pervert," I muttered trying to sound scathing, and sounding breathless instead before opening and gulping some of the ice cold water Ranger left on the counter when he started cooking. I was hoping the chill would cool down my raging hormones. Clear my head before I did something rash, like fuck Ranger right here in his kitchen. Ranger chuckled throwing me for another loop.

 _What the heck was going on?_ Ranger was giving me emotional whiplash again! _At least he didn't say he'd like to see me barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen!_ I'd probably have a heart attack, even knowing he was joking.

Ranger's gaze rolled down my legs to smirk at my bare feet before sweeping back up my body like a physical caress raising my pulse with them. "You're half way there; I'm open to working on the second one."

And if I thought he was even the tiniest bit serious I could exchange my racing heart beat and the sudden heat in my cheeks for a stroke. Ranger was teasing me again. I had to say something, and taking him up on the offer or ripping his pants off was _not_ the appropriate response. I mean, I'd be very, _very_ happy for a while—possibly the rest of the day and most of the night knowing Ranger's stamina. But then the cold hard bitch that is reality would kick in, and it would be so much worse than this morning. Anger slithered through me intertwining with the tendrils of desire flooding my belly and twisting me into a series of knots that made my stomach hurt.

Ranger was still watching me with those dark chocolate eyes, the ones that hinted at seduction, and promised mind blowing sex. He shifted ready to move towards me. _And, Nope. Not this time_.

"I will stab you with this fork." I warned, pointing at him threateningly.

Ranger took it out of my hand instead of looking concerned and finished doling food onto both plates while I tried to clear my head and control my racing heartbeat.

"Set these on the table and come help me with the salad."

 _I knew there was a freaking catch!_

Ranger lips twitched again as I walked out grumbling and set the plates down a little harder than necessary on the dark solid oak table before coming back.

"Get me two bowls." He was pulling salad items out of the crisper drawer as I did.

I leaned my hip against the counter watching him for a few moments, the mood shifting between us to something more serious, less playful. "Can I ask you a question?"

Ranger's eyes flicked to mine. "You can ask me anything." I guess that was true. We both knew there were some questions he just wouldn't or couldn't answer. I was hoping this wasn't one of them since it had been bothering me off and on all day. Tanks reaction—or lack of one earlier made me think this might be something I didn't want to hear.

"The meeting earlier, it was with the core team."

Ranger nodded, waiting for the question.

"I thought Lester was on the Core team, not Ram."

Ranger's eyes flicked to me for a moment and his jaw tightened. "That's not technically a question."

Ranger can be impossible to read, it's one of the many things about him that keep me guessing. Right now wasn't one of those times. Right now Ranger's irritation was obvious. He'd looked open and relaxed when I told him I had a question, which I hadn't expected. But as soon as I'd mentioned Lester everything about him had shifted towards aggressive.

It looked like he was expecting me to bring up something else entirely and I'd just thrown him for a loop. One he wasn't happy about.

"He is on the core team." Ranger said after a moment in the same voice he'd use when he was forced to be civil with Joe.

"So, was he busy? Is that why he wasn't at the meeting today?"

"Does it matter that he wasn't at the meeting?" Ranger growled softly. I could feel his eyes on me and I suddenly found myself occupied studying the edges of the salad bowl in front of me, spinning it slowly on the counter top between us with my fingertips. Ranger's hand reached out and covered mine stopping me. He was probably worried I'd spill the whole thing onto the floor just so I wouldn't have to eat it.

"I guess not," I offered quietly and he pulled his hand back with a heavy breath on anyone else I'd consider a sigh. _It had just been an awkward day all around, and Lester was always good at lightening the mood and making me feel better, even at the expense of getting called to the mats by Ranger or head slapped by Bobby. Plus I needed to pay him back for that ridiculous wallpaper in his office!_

"He's off duty until further notice." Ranger said with a strange note of finality I didn't understand.

"Is he fired?" I gaped at him and he shook his head once in a no. "Did he get called for a mission or something?" That would explain his absence if he wasn't in the country, God knows Ranger disappeared all the time though usually not without warning me first—not that I had that kind of relationship with Lester.

"Lester doesn't go on missions anymore—not unless I specifically ask him and I wouldn't do that unless I had no other choice."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times trying to understand that wording and coming up with nothing but more confusion. "I don't understand."

Ranger set the bag of spinach down and propped his hip against the counter to face me, arms crossed over his chest expression serious. "This doesn't leave this apartment." I nodded in understanding. "Lester came back from our last mission together a little over two years ago with severe PTSD. I think we all had it in some degree, it was a complete shit show, we barely got out alive. But it hit Les, it hit him hard. I didn't know if he'd recover for a while." Ranger's voice had gone soft, the lines around his eyes tight remembering things that obviously disturbed him.

"Is this that captured in Columbia thing?" I whispered my heart aching for Lester, for Ranger—for all of them for the things they'd had to see and do and survive. I know it shaped them into who they are, but when Ranger spoke about their experiences—as rare as that was, it never sounded nice. It sounded like they'd walked through Hell on a regular basis and barely lived to tell about it—not that they ever said much.

Ranger nodded slowly his eyes shadowed. "He's fine now. He's been in enough sticky situations and exposed to enough stress over the last year that I'd like to say he's completely over it. But I keep him partnered with Bobby always in the field unless he's with me, just in case he has a relapse. Asking him to go into the jungle, into a fire fight—I can't do that to him, he's strong and he'd probably be fine, he'd do anything I asked of him. But I can't risk it, and I don't want to. I won't put him through that, not if I can avoid it."

"I had no idea."

"He hides the shit we've been through well, the jokes, the clowning around. Lester tries to keep things light so he doesn't have to focus on the dark. Everyone's got their own method of dealing, you have to or it will eat you alive." His words carried the conviction of a man who knew personally what it was like to deal with demons, to stare in the darkest face humanity offered, and never blink.

"What's yours?" I asked without thinking before the words were out, and _shit. That was way too personal._ _No way was Ranger going to answer that._ I stood there blushing awkwardly, waiting for him to shut me down.

"I follow a strict routine. Routines allow me to focus on the present, not the past."

That didn't sound so hard, and it explained the regimented way Ranger lived his life. That always kind of drove me a bit nuts, I chafed under such restraints, but Ranger clearly thrived and now I knew why. I tended to float around in total chaos living in the moment, but Ranger always had a plan, and a schedule, and a task that required his attention. It made a lot more sense to me now, and I was sorry I gave him grief before in the past; especially if it was a coping mechanism to deal with PTSD or some other terrible side effect left in the wake of his missions and their accompanying horrors.

"So getting up at 4am and treating your body like a temple is all it takes?"

 _It seemed a lot healthier than my Mother's Wild Turkey habit, that's for sure. Maybe I should get her one of those daily schedule books._ _Breakfast; 730._ _Iron; 830 to noon…_

Ranger's hands clasped both sides of the counter top behind my back pinning me in while I was distracted. I sucked in a breath and my chin jerked up to stare at him startled by his sudden proximity.

"That, and I like to break into your apartment and watch you sleep."

All the air in my lungs left me in a rush. _Holy shit! I mean, I always suspected Ranger visited me at night, but…_

 _Holy Shit!_

 _Say something Stephanie!_ I swallowed, my throat suddenly too dry to speak beyond a raspy whisper."I'm glad I could help." I cleared my throat and leaned back putting a bit more space between our lips before I kissed him. I tried to be subtle but Ranger clearly noticed because he dropped his hands and turned back to the almost completed salad on the counter. I almost sagged to the floor ridiculously torn between the contrasting emotions of disappointment and relief.

"So, if he's not on a mission is he on vacation? Is that why Lester isn't going with us to New York?" _Where would Lester go on vacation?_ I mused, _I was guessing Miami—That's where I'd go!_

Ranger set the fork down with a clatter. "Why the sudden interest in Lester?"

 _Uh, oh. Clearly I was upsetting Batman by asking about Robin, maybe I should drop this—except for the look that passed over Tank's face when I mentioned him, it had me worried._ "He's my friend, Ranger."

Ranger sighed and moved to stuff the ingredients back into the crisper drawer instead of asking me to do it. He shut the drawer with a bit more force then I would have used before standing back up stiffly. He seemed to be debating with himself about answering.

"He wasn't in the meeting today because Bobby put him on medical leave." Now Ranger sounded pissed.

Alarm shot through me. "What happened to Lester?! Is he alright?"

"He's fine. He'll live."

"Oh My God, Ranger! What do you mean he'll _live_?! What happened?" Unspeakable horrors were flipping through mind going a mile a minute. Ranger sounded so angry, _how badly was Lester injured?_ "I thought you said he hasn't had any PTSD episodes in a year, did he get shot?" I could barely get the words out.

"He's fine Stephanie, it's just a concussion." But Ranger sounded even more pissed as he said the last part, I could see him grinding his teeth—the muscle in his jaw clenching.

"How did Lester get a concussion?" Was this one of those, he wasn't aware of his surroundings scenarios and that's why Ranger was pissed? Maybe that was why Ranger was so angry with that new guy the night before. If his own cousin had gotten injured I could see that putting Ranger in a serious no-nonsense mood with the rest of the guys.

I waited but Ranger didn't answer me. He was sprinkling cheese onto my salad. A lot of cheese I noted—not that I was complaining, but this was Ranger, and that was odd. I stared at him suspicion growing. _If I didn't know any better I'd say the sudden silence on the matter was an admission of guilt._ "…Ranger?"

I swear I heard him sigh from across the room _,_ my suspicion grew, and a hint of anger started to grow. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. "Ranger." I reached out and pulled the bag of cheese away from him and Ranger's fist clenched on the counter staring down at the bowl.

"Training." He finally said like that settled it.

 _Did he not know me at all?_

"Lester got a concussion during _Training_ exercises?" I pushed. _What the hell were they doing repelling off of the building head first?!_

"He got a smart mouth." Ranger growled suddenly. "It got him into trouble." He picked both bowls up off the counter and moved towards the table.

"Oh my God!" Realization hit me and I spun to stare at him, mouth hanging open. "You took him to the mats!"

Silence. Ranger set the bowls on the table and waved his hand towards one of the seats indicating I should sit.

"Ranger!"

He just looked at me, indignation radiating from his pores.

"Ranger!"

"What." He growled back stalking towards me suddenly, I'd back up but there was nowhere to go.

 _Why the Hell wasn't this an alley kitchen_? Wasn't Ranger the one who always wanted multiple methods of escape, this was a serious design flaw I'd have to point out to Ella… _right after I convinced Ella I was even in the kitchen in the first place…_

 _She'd never believe it._

Ranger was less than two feet from me, eyes predatory and dark. There was nowhere to retreat so I'd have to stand my ground.

"You can't just go around breaking people!" He was close enough to me now that I could feel the heat of his body. It was seriously disrupting my train of thought, so I punched him in the shoulder for emphasis, just because. Bastard didn't even flinch, he didn't even blink _. I need to learn to throw a better punch!_ _He leaned into the counter fisting both hands behind my back and trapping me in a cage of Cuban muscle, nose inches from mine._ I could feel his breath against my lips.

 _I tried to keep the resulting hot flash from showing on my face._

"He deserved it." His tone told me he was dead serious, but the outrage I felt for Lester pushed me to keep opening my mouth and charging ahead. _Anyone intelligent would have dropped it like a hotcake at Ranger's growl…Too bad I never claimed to be all that smart._

"What do you mean he _deserved_ it! No one deserves a concussion!" I preached on ignoring the way Ranger's eyes bored into me growing darker by the second. "What about all that NFL stuff? How concussions are dangerous for people to get over and over!" _That's right Stephanie, use facts—facts are your friend, facts would certainly keep me out of a third world country drop box for pissing Ranger off..._

"He's your friend! He's family!" I pointed out fisting my hands on my hips and glaring back at him.

"No one gets to talk about you like that."

 _Hold the Phone_! "Lester said something about _me_?" I squeaked in shock.

"And I knocked him on his ass." Ranger growled.

"What did he say?"

"It's not important." Ranger's gaze shifted to the counter behind me, clearly evading the subject. He side stepped around me and picked up the forks I'd dropped when he started dishing out salad.

 _I don't think so mister!_ I pulled my fists from my hips and planted them against the solid wall of his chest pushing til I could fit between his body and the counter. _We were having this conversation Damnit!_

"Not important my ass!" Ranger's eyes darkened to smoldering though whether it was from my tone, my new proximity or the mention of my rear I wasn't sure; I pushed on regardless.

"If you felt like you had to defend my honor—" _I almost snorted at the thought. Thanks to Joe's poetry skills that ship sailed long ago. Not only had it sailed, it was ransacked, caught fire, and sank._ "—I wanna know why!" I finished indignantly. At least _then I'd know if I needed to slap Lester in the back of the head, or kick him in the balls after he recovered!_

"It's taken care of, it won't happen again."

 _Which wouldn't? Lester's mouth or Ranger taking him to the mats, because I was having a hard time believing either one…Lester going to end up with brain damage!_

 _"_ He's already got it. Hopefully I knocked some sense back into his thick skull."

"I don't think it works that way. How long has he had the concussion, can I go see him before we leave?"

"Three days, he's on four, and you'd have to ask Bobby—he's not supposed to have sound or light exposure for another week at least."

I counted back in my head. "I called you on Monday, and you were beating the shit out of Lester!"

"Yes." Ranger's jaw clenched but his eyes shot toward the ceiling at the admission.

 _I'm a terrible, horrible person._ The second he admitted it my entire body flooded with relief so powerful my knees knocked together and I sagged against Ranger's chest his hand snapping around my back steadying me a wobbled s while I pressed my palm and my forehead against him drawing a deep breath. I should be upset he was beating up Lester, and a part of me still was—but the knowledge that it had been Lester moaning in the background and not some woman writhing under Ranger in bed was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"Babe?"

"I'm sorry," my fingers fisted in his t-shirt hopelessly wrinkling the perfect cotton but I couldn't make myself let go.

Ranger seemed frozen, shocked into some strange stasis for nearly a full minute. "Why are you sorry, babe," he reached down drawing his finger up under my chin and tilting my face up so he could see me clearly. "You've nothing to be sorry for."

"I thought…" relief twisted around in my chest tangling with the adrenaline and stress of the last few days—hell the last few weeks really. I had to look away, close my eyes and fight to rein back tears. "I…I…" I couldn't even form the words, and then I realized snapping my mouth shut and shaking my head that I shouldn't— _Ranger didn't need to know what I thought,_ admitting my hurt over thinking he was with someone else would only embarrass me. _I had no claim on Ranger, we weren't together. It might kill me but he had the right to boff half the state of New Jersey and I couldn't object to it_. _And now I felt like shit again._

"Babe, Stephanie. Look at me."

 _No. I couldn't._

 _"_ Babe, _please."_

I kept my eyes shut too embarrassed to look Ranger in the eye and admit the thought of him with another woman made me want to throw up the knots twisting in my gut were so severe.

"Babe," Ranger had to be ESPing me, or maybe he could just read my face without even looking into my eyes.

His hand slid up my spine pulling me in tighter against the warm firm pressure of his body while his thumb swept over my bottom lip pulling it out from under the teeth currently trying to tear through it. I felt his exhale across my lips like a whisper and then he kissed me, so different from any other kiss before. It was feather soft, gentle—it made my heart feel like it was ready to collapse inside my chest. My next exhale rattled out of my chest, every muscle in my body quivering. My hands clenched tighter in his t-shirt pulling him closer but instead of deepening the kiss when I moved in Ranger pulled back, pressing his lips in a soft sweep against the sensitive skin below my ear, his voice a low pitched growl combined with the evidence pressed hard against my stomach. It was clear he was affected, just like before. But he was pulling away again.

I was ready to scream in frustration, and beyond confused.

"Food, Babe. As much as I'd like to eat you alive." Heat shot straight through me, tingling every nerve and fogging my brain with lust. "I have two meetings I have to make tonight if we're going to make it to New York tomorrow morning."

He exhaled against my skin and I shuddered hard, nipples pebbling to rigid points. His lips brushed my ear and then he kissed me there, then moved lower and my knees gave out and Ranger growled low in his throat and pulled his head back so fast I thought for a dazed second maybe _I'd_ burned _him_.

 _Playing with fire Ranger._ I would have giggled but I was breathing too hard and my panties were so damp I might be endangering these jeans. Ranger shifted us, taking my elbow and leading me on unsteady legs to the table. "Sit."

It was more like a collapse.

Ranger went back to the kitchen and my eyes popped out of my head watching him walk back. I've seen Ranger naked before, the light might have been low, but it was a sight to behold—trust me. It was firmly engrained in my memory, or at least I thought it was—looking at the impressive tent in the front of Ranger's cargos I wondered if my memory hadn't done him justice. _It had been more than a year…_

"Babe if you lick your lips one more time staring at me like that I'm going to sweep these plates on to the floor and take you right here on the table."

 _Eek! Remember the plan Steph, distance—sanity._ _Yet an image of straddling a very naked Ranger flashed through my brain and I nearly melted off the seat and onto the floor._ _Dear god, I was picturing riding Ranger like a pony at the races_. I narrowly stopped myself from picking up my napkin and fanning my face to ward off the intense heat of my hot flash.

That would be one way to stick it to the memory of Joyce and the Dick. Maybe I could get Ranger to take me behind the Eclair case at the Tasty Pastry too. _Ohmygod!_

 _If I didn't stop I was going to have the mother of all solo orgasms sitting across the table from Ranger and I wasn't even touching myself._

"Babe!" Ranger groaned in pain gripping the edge of the table with both hands.

 _Shit. I closed my eyes and pulled in a deep breath, if I didn't find a way to change the conversation I was going to be so turned on I wouldn't be able to think straight—I was more than halfway there already._

I squirmed in my seat and picked at the salad with my fork. Ranger shot me a look. _Okay fine, I'd eat it._ I took a bite and was pleasantly surprised that the smoky cheese and almonds Ranger had added to my salad were delicious. Not that I'd admit that out loud—judging by the smug look he gave me I didn't need to. I rolled my eyes at him, _it was still rabbit food_.

"Can I ask you another question?" I glanced up and Ranger nodded eyeing me with a careful expression.

"Why is Davis so pissed at me? What exactly is the problem with my being involved? They offered the position to me—I know Jose the Dick did it really to get back at you," Ranger's lips twitched at my descriptive name. "But Davis just seems to hate me, and I haven't even blown anything up yet!"

"How much of the meeting earlier did you actually listen to?"

 _Um…I'd kinda zoned out the second Ram gave me Agent Davis's notes on the case_.

Ranger shook his head but he looked amused instead of exasperated.

"It's not that complicated, it comes down to Ego and money. The FBI is involved; they have to be called in to a case like this. After three deaths this guy officially became categorized as a serial killer. That's pretty rare. Davis is pissed off that he didn't hand pick an agent to fill the position, an agent under his jurisdiction he could control and take credit for—a serial killer case is a huge publicity matter—it can make or break a career Stephanie. People sell books telling the story of how they identified them, stopped them. Catching one alive is a major undertaking, you might consider it the Holy Grail of homicide. There are some that think catching one alive is more important than stopping one because every time we've gotten the chance to study one we learn more about them, what causes them, why they do what they do."

"Because just being evil isn't reason enough?"

"They can't prevent 'evil' Steph. They need influences, triggers, warning signs they can catalog and easily identify. Evil is scary, it's not something you can predict or prevent. Blausé, Davis's boss, is under a lot of pressure from above to see this guy brought in alive, a trained agent would know that and act accordingly, or try to at least."

I pushed my salad away, I'd eaten more than half of it, and the chicken smelled so good I couldn't wait any longer to try it. I cut a piece with the edge of my fork it was so tender and popped it into my mouth. _Oh my god_.

"Babe," Ranger sounded pained again.

 _Oops._ I guess I might have moaned on that last bite. I popped another piece in my mouth. _God, I couldn't' help it, this was so damn good!_

"You're killing me here." Ranger complained and I blushed trying to keep my reaction to the next bite quieter.

I cleared my throat. "So the police, they're pissed off because the FBI is going to take the credit?"

"Sort of. The NYPD are equally annoyed they don't have an officer that could fit the bill. If they'd been able to place their own officer in the position you're in then credit for cracking the case—even if it was as the guy came after their officer would still belong to their department. There's notoriety and budget money to be had when you break open a big case like this. For a police department—even one as big as the NYPD that's a large motivator. They're paying for a civilian they can't take credit for either."

 _And that's why no one was protecting me? It seemed petty._

"It's politics babe, always politics. They aren't covering the extra expenses for your involvement because of man hours and budget cuts, that's the excuse they're using at least—the NYPD is stone walling and saying since it's an FBI case the Agency should foot the bill for your safety expenditures. NYPD is already supplying your apartment—which is a PD safe house, and your monthly stipend comes from them as well, which is pissing off the police chief because he can't get equipment for his own officers due to the budget cuts, and he can't take credit in his department for any information you bring in which might increase his budget with the city. The fact that no one negotiated the contract when you agreed to this mess means they simply skipped over protection and back up details completely and left you high and dry. No one wanted to pony up the extra resources and they weren't forced to negotiate it because no one was representing you and you didn't know to ask yourself. It's why Blausé gave in so easily when I offered Rangeman's services pro bono for the remainder of this case. If something happened to you technically they could be liable if your family decided to sue; and he knows that. Rangeman isn't a threat to Blausé because I signed a non-disclosure stating we would take no credit with the capture."

 _Oh._ I blinked. _That was quite a speech for Ranger. I wondered if he needed a throat lozenge after that, or a nap._

"Babe," Ranger shook his head.

I went to stab another bite and realized my plate was empty except for the dredges of sauce. _Wow_. I'd eaten every bite; I haven't eaten this much in a long time. _Now I felt like I needed bigger pants!_

"Babe go take a nap, I'll be gone til late tonight anyway."

I glanced at the clock, 5:48 pm. I could take an hour nap and still make it to work by 10 pm.

"Babe?" Ranger immediately clued into my train of thought.

"I was supposed to be at work tonight, at ten." I mean, I guess Tamsin wasn't expecting me since she'd been in the meeting earlier—confirming she definitely wasn't just a night club manager. I didn't know if she was FBI or PD still. Either they hadn't said, or it had been something I'd missed coming in late or while I was looking at the file. I could still make it to work, use my new information to scan the club better, try to find someone that gave me that weird hinky feeling on the back of my neck and made my skin crawl.

"You're not going to New York tonight. I won't be back until at least midnight, your apartment isn't secured and Ram needs a hard eight."

What?

"Sleep," Ranger clarified. "Ram needs sleep. He's not driving you to New York tonight. The apartment down the hall is being set up at 0500 tomorrow, and Hector will install the necessary equipment tomorrow so we can monitor the building and the hallway outside your apartment. But as of tonight it's defenseless."

"So I take one of the Merry Men with me, I want to find this guy Ranger—before he kills anyone else!"

"I understand that Stephanie, but don't ask me to risk your life for one night. You asked for my help and if I could reschedule tonight's meeting I would, but I can't Babe, this is one of those few things that's beyond my control. I have to go. But I swear to God I'll walk out of it, court martial be damned, if I hear from anyone that you've left the building."

"You mean if I stun gun someone and sneak out?" I snapped.

"No Steph, my men are under no orders to hold you hostage. If you leave they will accompany you and inform me immediately. I don't want you in New York without me."

 _Wait._

"Court Martial?" _Who the hell would court martial Ranger for leaving a meeting?_

"The US Government."

My breath caught and my heart stuttered in my chest. "Are you leaving?"

"Trying not to, but I need to attend this meeting. Please babe, I'm asking you to do this for me. Stay here, nap, watch a movie—go over the case file, go to the gym. Hell, go see Lester on four. But please, don't leave the building, not without me."

 _Jesus. How could I resist a request like that?_ _Being asked instead of ordering when it came to my safety is all I've ever wanted from Ranger._ I nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll stay."

He nodded slowly but he didn't look completely convinced. I wanted to be annoyed at him, but I could understand his nerves. I'd run enough times before head long into danger that it was a pretty undeniable pattern.

"Ranger," His eyes flicked to mine. "I'll stay, I promise."

"Thank you babe," He glanced at the clock on the wall standing up and moving towards the open doorway while I followed behind him. "I have to go; the Helio will be on the roof in five minutes."

 _He was taking a Helio to his meeting. It was so James Bond it made me smile despite the serious conversation._ _"_ You know, most people drive to meetings, Batman. If you were that worried about traffic you should have left earlier."

"Not this meeting." Ranger said leaning forward and brushing his lips over my forehead. "Leave the dishes, Ella will be up shortly. You can reach Bobby if you hit 3 on the phone; ask him about seeing Lester before you go down."

"Worried I'll wake him up if he's sleeping?"

"Worried he's sleeping without any pants." Ranger growled back grabbing me in a bone melting kiss that left my toes curling and my head spinning with lust.

By the time my brain function had returned he was gone.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **To be continued...**


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Notes :** Huge thanks to Fallharvst for the read through!

Sorry this one took longer then expected, the muse didn't want to cooperate and I've been hella distracted by real life!

.

Thanks for all the reads/fave/and reviews!

Edited 5/23 because I missed a mistake and Fallharvst set me straight! Oops! LOL

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Two**

* * *

About ten minutes after Ranger left Ella came into the apartment buzzing like a bee. She called out a hello to me at the doorway and immediately began collecting the plates I'd moved in Ranger-kiss-induced-daze to the sink and started placing them in the dishwasher. She eyed the pan on the stove and smiled at me eyes sparkling. "Ranger cooked?"

I nodded surprised she even asked, clearly it wasn't me—the building was still standing.

"That's lovely, what did he make?" She started rinsing the pan in the sink before placing it into the dishwasher beside to the dishes.

I didn't know if I could pronounce it. "Something Cuban, with chicken."

She smiled at me. "Did you like it?"

"It was delicious."

"Wonderful!" If she smiled any brighter she'd be glowing. "I put some snacks for you in the cupboard beside the fridge. Did Ranger tell you?"

I shook my head no.

"Well, I'm sure he was in a rush to get out of here." She stated drying her hands on a dish towel and closing the dishwasher before turning it on, she opened one of the top doors and I could immediately make out the colorful outer wrapper on a box of tasty cakes, a jar of peanut butter, and two more boxes I couldn't make out but they bore the same bright eye-catching colors used to lure kindergarteners towards sugar laced breakfast cereals.

"Just in case you get hungry later, and if you need to you know; you're welcome to stay with me and Luis on six."

"Thank you Ella. Oh, and thank you for the Clothes, again." I felt color rising in my cheeks. Poor Ella has replaced the most basic essentials for me more times than I could count. I sometimes wondered if there was a secret storage room somewhere in the building stocked with all my favorite brands and spare uniforms for whenever disaster struck.

"Nonsense, happy to do it. You call me if you need anything, anything at all."

I promised her I would and she bustled out the door onto her next mission. I went to the kitchen phone and dialed 03 waiting a split second for the line to connect me to Bobby.

"Hey Bomber."

"How'd you know it was me?" I wondered.

"Because Ranger just left, and you're the only other person who would be calling me from seven." Bobby replied with a hint of teasing in his voice.

 _Oh, Right. Duh_.

"So, what can I do for you?" Bobby continued with an offbeat note of trepidation.

"Um, Ranger told me Lester's on four and said I should talk to you before going down?"

"Oh, yeah Les would love to see you Steph, just keep your voice down, don't turn on the lights; and you shouldn't stay longer then fifteen minutes."

 _Wow. That sounded pretty severe._

"He's lucky it wasn't worse, dumbass." Bobby scoffed. Before I could comment on that he distracted me by continuing. "I have a replacement cellphone for you on five, it's programmed with your number and we've got it connected to your voicemail and Hector downloaded your contact information so it will just replace the phone you had in New York."

And it no doubt carried a state of the art tracking device and some kind of panic button function unlike my store bought android. "Thank you Bobby."

"You want me to bring it up?"

"No, I'll come down and get it, and then go see Les."

"I'll give you the keycard so you can get in he doesn't need to answer the door. He's on severely limited activity. His brain needs rest." He repeated clearly trying to drive the point home though he wouldn't discourage me from going to see him.

I agreed and hung up even more concerned for Les, and wondering what the Hell he said to Ranger. Guess I'd just have to find out. I went back to the bedroom and grabbed a pair of running shoes from my side of the closet slipping my feet into them. I left the apartment and went to the elevator taping the down arrow so I could ride to five. Bobby was waiting for me when the doors popped open. He eyed me for a split second, something in his posture, off.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

I hesitated. "Do you not want me to see Lester?" I didn't want to make him worse—I just wanted to see that he was okay.

"No, no that's fine Bomber."

 _Then what was going on?_ Bobby never looked uncomfortable. "Is Ranger okay?"

"Ranger's fine. Made his contact on the roof and he should be arriving in DC on time."

"Then why do you look so tense?" I shot back.

Bobby blinked, and the set of his shoulders relaxed marginally. "Tank is handling a take-down in Camden; I'm responsible for keeping you safe until Ranger is back."

"I'm standing right here, relax." Then it hit me. "You think I'm going to run out of the building."

"Ranger said not to stop you." He didn't look like he agreed with the order.

"I'm not going anywhere," I reiterated for the second time tonight. Bobby didn't look convinced, and maybe that was fair, but it still rankled. "I promised."

"You've made promises before."

 _Ouch._ I felt my teeth grind and toyed with the idea of leaving just to piss Bobby off—but that was childish even for me. "I promised, and I'm staying here. Can I have my phone please; I'd like to go see Les."

Bobby handed over a plan black phone in a protective probably drop proof case and a slim black card without markings. I stared at it.

"Just wave it in front of the door and the lock will disengage, he's used to me coming in to check him every few hours. The phone doesn't have a password so you'll want to set one."

I nodded and turned around to punch the elevator button. Bobby kept standing behind me. I could feel the tension coming off him in waves. I sighed fighting the urge to snap at him. "I'm not leaving Bobby. I'll come tell you if that changes." The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside turning to hit the button for four. Bobby was still watching me, the patented blank Rangeman expression now in place. It was starting to really piss me off. I slapped my hand out stopping the doors from closing and growled, "What?"

He shook his head, "Fifteen minutes." Then he turned and walked away through the cubicles turning into the control room doorway, probably to watch me on the monitors—make sure I went to four instead of leaving the building.

 _What the fuck?_ I let the doors slide shut. I considered flipping the camera in the corner of the ceiling the bird, but didn't. Bobby was just trying to keep me safe. I should be grateful that I had friends and colleagues willing to bend over backwards and risk their lives to keep me safe. I finger waved to the camera instead.

The apartment was completely dark when I opened the door using the keycard Bobby had handed me.

If felt oddly criminal to just walk into someone else's apartment without knocking first. I might indulge in the occasional B&E while skip tracing with Lula but this was a friend, and it felt wrong. Keeping in mind Bobby had told me to keep my visit short and noise to a minimum I didn't call out announcing my presence. He said Lester was used to him coming and going from the apartment so hopefully I wasn't about to get shot.

I stuffed the card in my front pocket so I wouldn't drop it or set it down and forget it, moving towards the hallway that led to the bedroom and bath using the faint blue light someone had set into one of the outlets at knee height. Considering nightlights were hardly Rangeman style and the guys were comfortable in almost complete dark in unfamiliar places like Stark street with all their stealthy training it was probably so Ella could come and go to check on Les too without tripping or needing to turn on the lights. The guys were as mindful of Ella as they were of me, possibly more so. I'd arrived more than once to find a string of men unloading one of the SUV's and carrying all the groceries or home supplies upstairs so that all Ella had to carry was her purse.

Nobody carried my groceries…maybe because I'd never brought any, and I'd probably try to punch them if they did.

The door to the bedroom was open, lights off, the curtains pulled across the expansive wall of windows that would normally look out over the street below. The view inside from the sidewalk obscured with one-way mirror glass that coated most of the building turning it into an urban reflecting pool, smooth and perfect like a pond on a still morning.

I could just make out the outline of a king size bed without a headboard, light colored sheets drawing the only light in the room minuscule as it was as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The large body in the middle, silent and unmoving, I didn't really want to wake him. Maybe I should leave and come back later.

"This seriously blows man," Lester's muffled voice emanated from the lump on the bed stopping me before I could sneak back out.

 _I bet_. I had to empathize with him. _Poor Les_. I'd be losing my mind in about five minutes being told I had to sit in the dark with no sound for two weeks. I'd be climbing the walls in under a day.

"Bobby?" Lester shifted and I realized I hadn't said anything yet—and with what Ranger had told me earlier about Lester, maybe standing in the dark doorway of his bedroom while he was injured and possibly half asleep without speaking was the wrong thing to do. I didn't want to cause him any distress, and even half dead in total darkness Les could probably still shoot at me and not miss.

"Not Bobby," I announced and Lester pushed up on his elbow.

"Beautiful?" Les called out sounding confused.

I moved closer to the bed, dropping to sit on the edge of it where I could see him a little better. It was so dark I could barely make out the outline of his features, his strong nose and high cheekbones that gave him his playboy good looks, the normally ordered hair, sticking up in disobedient waves.

"I thought I'd come keep you company or a little bit," at least until Bobby showed up to kick me out.

"Mmmm," Lester slumped towards me and I gasped as his head landed in my lap, one arm slung around my back in a bizarre side hug, his cheek smashed against my thighs. "This is my favorite dream."

 _Shit._ Before I could formulate a response to that he was speaking again.

"It's usually better than this though," he moaned rubbing his cheek against my leg like a cat.

 _Like a big, warm, sleepy Lester cat without a shirt, oh boy._

"My fucking head is killing me." He whined a second later, voice sleep slurred and soft.

The quiet admission brought my hand up hoping to soothe him somehow. I start running my fingers through short locks normally twisted and perfectly styled on top of his head. Now they were a wild sea of soft wavy curls sticking up in disorderly spikes completely free of any styling products, a sleep swept sea of chaos. It made me think of my nieces when they woke up on Christmas morning at my parent's house when they were really young and visiting from California. All tousled curls and big wide innocent eyes glowing with happiness and magic. For Lester, the clown it was an even more apt comparison. Despite the constant innuendos Lester is almost childlike compared to the guys. He still manages to appear innocent somehow despite being an Ex-Army Ranger that's probably seen more horrors then the average person could ever imagine.

"I'm sorry Ranger beat you up."

"I deserved it." He moaned into my leg, though whether it was from pain, or the fact that I was still sliding my fingers through his curls I don't know.

Curiosity was winning out over my previous concern, clearly Lester was talking—even if his words were a bit slurred either from sleep or pain meds. "What did you say to him?"

"I was trying to convince him to tell you how he feels, before it was too late." Lester mumbled sullenly.

 _Oh._ My heart sunk into my shoes. "And he punched you in the face." _So hard that Lester had a grade two concussion._ I swallowed, trying to ignore the ache in my chest, tried to focus on running my finger's though Les's disheveled locks making him sigh again.

"Probably the wording." Lester admitted a moment later.

 _Probably the subject._ I thought with a stab of pain.

"Naw, Beautiful it's not that I promise you. Ric is completely head over heels in love with you. He's just too arrogant and bullheaded to admit it. I don't know what his fucking problem is; I'd take you to bed and never let you out of it. My cousin is an idiot."

My fingers froze near the back of Lester's neck. I swallowed, but it didn't seem to help how thick and tight my voice sounded. "That's the problem Les, he wants me in his bed and that's it." I couldn't make the words come out any stronger than a whisper—even in the partial anonymity of the dark, admitting them to someone else was painful.

"Tha's fuck'n Bullshit," Les mumbled. "No fuck'n way. Not possible. He loves you, he's an idiot."

"How do you know?"

"Cause everyone loves you Beautiful, you're so amazing."

I wanted to laugh, but it sort of got strangled by my emotions and died in my throat. "Yeah, that's me."

 _Amazing at getting in over my head, blowing up cars, endangering his men, screwing everything up..._

"You shut your damn mouth and lis'en to me." Les said with more force then before, but the same soft slur telling me it was probably drugs loosening his tongue and command of hard consonant sounds and not just sleep.

"Ranger is a great man, but he's not perfect. He doesn't talk, but I see it, we all see it—he's a wreck when you're in danger, after Scrog, and that fucking Stiva shit where he pulled you out of the cupboard? He thought you were dead, he was so fuck'n wrecked that night Tank had to pry the bottle out of his hand before he destroyed half the building. When he couldn't find you in New York, and Tank didn't know where you were he was tearing this place apart, he was going to New York every night just driving around—looking for you. Like he'd see you just standing on the street. So he can't say it, and that's wrong, but he's screaming it every time he does something for you if you'd pay attention. You two are the only ones that can't see how great you are together, it's killing him."

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. "It's killing him? Him?! He's killing me! He was the one that sent me back to Joe! And pushed me away! And told me he didn't do relationships!"

"Owww! Fuck Steph not so loud."

 _Shit._ "I'm sorry," I started running my fingers though his tangled hair again in apology. "Sorry,"

"I think I'm starting to see the problem." Lester grumbled. "Ignore all the bullshit he said before, and I'm sure there's a fucking boat load of it because I know that mother fucker and he doesn't do shit halfway. Just listen to him now Beautiful, and give him a chance."

 _I wanted to so bad, but I was so afraid Les was wrong and I was just setting myself up for more heart ache._

"Beautiful, you don't give a guy a concussion and break his nose for saying he wants to sleep with a woman you just want to be friends with.".

My fingers froze again. _He beat Lester up because Lester was interested in me?_

"Relax," Les grumbled. "Everyone is interested in you. And I'm dumb, but not _that_ dumb." He huffed then I felt him wince against my leg. "I know you're in love with him. I could see the way you two were tearing each other up when you were here, the whole building was holding its breath. I didn't know if you were going to kill each other every time you started going at it, or fuck the shit out of each other on the floor. Tank was pulling out his hair."

"Tank doesn't have any hair."

"Now you know why." I could hear the smile. "I thought maybe with you putting some pressure on Ranger, with things changing in front of him he couldn't control he could finally get his head out of his ass."

"What did you say?"

Lester hesitated a moment. I felt more then heard the heavy exhale through my pant leg, warm against my skin. "You promise not to punch me in the face?"

"Yes."

 _Maybe._

"I said if he'd stop wearing his ass like a hat you'd have your legs wrapped around him instead of a pole, and if he wasn't interested enough to work his shit out he should step aside so other very interested parties could have a chance to ride that."

I stared down at his outline in the darkness, feeling him tense against my leg the longer the silence stretched on.

"You're lucky you lived."

"That's what Bobby said," Lester blew out on a sigh. "My cousin loves you Steph, he's just been a moron about it."

"He loves me, in his own way." I repeated Ranger's own words.

"No. He loves you in every way." He sighed. "He just can't let go of the need to keep you safe."

"How is ripping my heart out keeping me safe?" I snarled in frustration.

"He's got himself convinced that if he lets everyone know how important you are someone will hurt you to get to him."

"What the Fuck? Scrog! That's already happened, it's going to happen regardless because everyone already knows how important we are to each other!" I snapped furiously.

"Bingo." Lester said. "He's an idiot. Or he was, he's trying Steph—just give him a chance."

I'd give him a million, even knowing he'd probably break my heart a million and one.

"He won't." Lester whispered hugging me tighter and sighing his voice sounding thicker with each word. "and if he does, I'll kill him myself." He yawned despite the venom in his words.

"Go to sleep Les," It had probably been fifteen minutes anyway.

"I'd ask you to stay," he mumbled sleepily.

"But then Ranger would rip your head off your neck." Bobby pointed out from the doorway and I jumped with a squeak of surprise making Les chuckle, probably he knew Bobby was there the whole time.

"That and I'm not wearing pants." Les slurred obviously grinning against my leg.

"Get off me." I rolled my eyes as he shifted over and Bobby announced he could have more Percocet as he moved closer to the bed to hand Lester what looked like a little cup and a glass of water.

"I'll come see you later." It would give me something to do, and maybe if I Les was willing to talk and I found questions I was brave enough to ask he might answer.

"Okay Beautiful, just think about it."

 _I doubted I'd be able to think about much else._

I was back upstairs a few minutes later, and after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and drinking half of it I couldn't really stall any longer. I pulled out the replacement phone Bobby had given me and eyed it with a deeply engrained wariness.

I hit the button to call up my voicemail and dropped onto Ranger's leather sofa blowing out a deep resigned breath as the message's started up. "You have, eleven new messages." The lady intoned smugly.

The first message started and ended with just one word "Babe," but my breath caught in my throat just the same. The next three messages were also from Ranger's Cellphone. The first two he hung up without a word, the third call started with silence and ended just as he started roaring at someone in seriously pissed off Spanish.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen, the time and date stamp for the message. Two nights ago, when I'd dropped my phone and hadn't answered for an hour and a half.

I knew I'd freaked Ranger out, but thinking about what Les said I felt like I should apologize to him again. Ranger was always so calm and collected I couldn't really imagine him freaking out the way Lester said he did, I tried—but my brain was having trouble picturing it. Meanwhile my heart was beating erratically in my chest afraid to read too much into Ranger's reactions and the reasons behind them.

The next message brought me crashing back down to earth faster than a meteor.

"Stephanie, please call me back. I'm sorry for earlier—I just need to talk to you so I can explain—"

 _Alex_. I pulled the phone from my ear and hit delete. The next two messages were pretty much the same. I guess I was really going to have to move Alex from the 'persistent gentleman caller' category to the 'possibly off his rocker/stalker' category. _I hate when that happens_.

I sighed, _seriously why does this shit always happen to me?_

"Stephanie this is your Mother. I don't want to alarm you; I know you're busy with your job but I don't know what else to do. I called Joseph and he said unless you decide to press charges the police can't do anything about him sitting on the street in front of the house, but the neighbors have noticed—"

 _What the Hell? Who was she talking about?_ _And why the Hell would my Mom call Joe?_

"Joe suggested I call your friend Ranger, and I just wasn't sure—"

 _Whoa. My mom was considering calling Ranger?_ I played the time stamp for the message; ten am this morning. I was about to hang up when the next message started.

"Hey Steph, its Joe. Listen your Mom called me and as much as I hate to say it; I think you need to get Ranger involved on this one. I may not like some of his methods—but this Alex guy might be bad news. I'm in Atlantic City until Sunday night or I'd have gone by unofficially to help them out. I hope New York is still treating you well, bye."

Now my head was spinning. I hung up and dialed my parent's house. The phone went straight to a busy signal. _Shit. Of course, the 'Burg gossip mongers hard at work._ My mother was probably ironing the wallpaper by now.

 _This time it really, really wasn't my fault!_

I redialed my voicemail and listened to the last two messages, then promptly wished I hadn't.

"Stephanie, baby please we just need to talk. Everything will be fine if you'd just talk to me!" He didn't even sound like Alex anymore, his voice was all high pitched and thready, making me wonder if he was drinking or strung out on something when he left it. "Look, I know I messed up; but I'm going to make it up to you. I brought flowers for you, I gave them to your Mother, did she tell you? You haven't given me your address so I was hoping you'd come home to get them and I could take you to dinner, somewhere really nice—maybe we could still go to AC. I bought you something else really special, but I'm not going to tell you what it is yet, I want you to be surprised. I'll give you a hint though—it's lace and it matches your eyes. I can't wait to see you wearing it on the beach and nothing else."

 _Holy crap on a mother fucking cracker!_

"What the Hell?" I stared at the phone in my hand. _What was he, Bi-polar?! Seriously!_ "What the Hell?!"

The last message started automatically time stamped this morning at 11:37am.

"Just a friend huh? That's bullshit! That guy is a psycho Stephanie! He just made a huge scene in front of your parent's house, and all the neighbors saw! Your Mother was beside herself! You're fuckin him aren't you? That's why you'll tell that him where you live but not me? How do you think that makes me feel?! That arrogant ass was rubbing it in my face! He wants you to believe I'm the bad guy, but that fucker shows up in black swat with a bunch of gang bangers! That's not the kind of man you need to associate with Stephanie! You know, I brought you flowers and he ruined them! You better call me right now or I'm pressing charges, and you'll be sorry Stephanie!"

 _Oh shit._

I hung up and tried dialing my parent's house again. _Busy signal. Shit. Fuck! Why could I never get through when I needed to?_

I was hitting the button to call Ranger before I'd even processed the thought. It got through half a ring and I had just enough time to realize _Oh Shit,_ I was calling Ranger during a Government meeting where he had to fly to Washington—by _Helicopter,_ and I should probably hang up before he answered…

"Babe?"

 _Too late._

"Shit! I'm sorry! I panicked and I didn't know what to do!"

"Calm down, what's wrong?"

"Alex left all these insane messages on my phone, and he said he was at my parent's house and then he said you were there and my Mom was upset and something about flowers and I couldn't reach the house—"

"It's fine. Your mother is fine. I made Alex leave. That's it."

"Are you kidding me? She's probably freaking out!"

I could just hear it now. _The phone has been ringing off the hook, Stephanie! Ranger threw that nice boy Alex off the lawn, like a Frisbee!_ _What will the neighbors think?_ _Jessica Polisnik's daughter doesn't need to have big scary men throw potential suitors off her mother's lawn!_

"Relax Stephanie she called me, and he didn't fly like a Frisbee." Ranger said. "Probably didn't flick my wrist enough."

 _Great! Batman was cracking jokes and I was having a mild panic attack._ "He said he's going to press charges!" I bit my lip; the last thing I wanted was for Ranger to get into legal trouble because of me.

"He can try, but going through your parent's mail and opening it is a Federal offense."

"He was opening my parent's mail?" _Why the Hell would he do that?_

"Presumably to find an address for you. Your mother said they received two birthday cards for your father in the mail the last three days, both from old army buddies that happen to have return address in New York—one still had the gift card to Rossini's inside, so clearly he wasn't looking for cash or gifts."

I was stunned.

"You actually spoke to my Mother?"

"Yes, briefly—we had coffee. I would have stayed longer but we were meeting with Brentley and I wanted to be there for you."

My head was spinning. "So, you were at my parent's this morning?"

And _he had coffee, with my mother…What planet was I living on?!_

"Yes, your mother called me because Alex was going through the mailbox and your father was out with the taxi, she was concerned about confronting him herself and I think she made a wise choice."

"And you threw him off the lawn."

"I suggested it was in his best interest to leave of his own free will." Ranger stated in a tone that made me certain he'd done a Hell of a lot more than just that. _Oh boy._

"…and what happened to the flowers?" I croaked.

Ranger paused for a beat, "he decided to eat them. Gotta go Babe," and he was gone.

I stared at the phone in my hand again completely speechless, mouth hanging open mentally picturing Alex eating a bouquet of flowers while Ranger stood there arms crossed over his chest looking deadly. _Yikes!_ That shouldn't give me a hot flash, but it totally did.

 _Guess that explained why Ranger was late to the meeting!_

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _To be continued..._


End file.
